


Gap Year

by Hadithi



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Dissociation, F/M, Flashbacks, WHO WANTS TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP?, everyone gets some therapy, everyone gets some trauma, loads of comfort and healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 94,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadithi/pseuds/Hadithi
Summary: Connie is offered a full ride through college if she takes a break. Steven confesses going on a solo road trip at seventeen after a full mental breakdown wasn't quite therapist approved. What follows is a full year of travel, self-discovery, and working through the traumatic parts of their childhoods.Now with an ever-expanding library of fanart! Thank you so much!THE FIRST 22 CHAPTERS ARE THE STORY - everything that follows are omakes and bonus content.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 2028
Kudos: 2152





	1. The Deal

Harvale University was a school that Connie did not expect to get into. If she got accepted, her parent’s moderate wealth would mean her student debt would be impossibly high. She doubted that she would manage to get the scholarships necessary to attend. But there was always the chance she’d get in, so Connie added it to her college tours nevertheless.

She had quietly followed along with the tour group, surprised to find she was one of the few kids there who hadn’t brought along a parent. Did everyone really go to these things with their whole families? Didn’t their parents have jobs? She kept to herself, asking a few questions of the tour guide as she appreciated the old brick buildings and the sense of nobility and history around the campus.

Connie had also been surprised when the dean of Harvale University requested a personal meeting with her. A secretary had quietly pulled her from the group at the end of the walk and asked, "Would you like to meet Ms. Allen?" And Connie had stared at him, because she did not, in fact, have the names of the deans at every school she thought of attending memorized, so he'd added, "Dean Allen. She has your application and hoped you'd be interested in meeting with her at the end of the tour."

"The dean wants to meet with me," Connie said, her brows knitting together at the perplexing thought. "I guess? I'll just send a few texts on the way so everyone knows where I am."

She'd followed behind him, quickly notifying everyone who needed to be notified that she'd been knocked a bit off schedule, and put away her phone before equally confused texts could greet her. She'd answer the why once she knew so herself. The secretary knocked, announced her, and Connie stepped through heavy oaken doors to shake hands with a short black woman behind an almost comically huge desk.

"Ms. Maheswaran! A pleasure." Her handshake was firm and quick, and followed with a warm gesture to one of the seats in front of the desk. They also seemed too large, too lavish. Harvale seemed to be a very pretentious sort of place. "Have a seat. Let's talk."

Connie wished it didn't make her feel so on edge, so suspicious, but her hair pickled at the base of her neck as she settled into her seat. Years of _having a talk_ ending with _having a talk with a sword_ meant every conflict had her heart running double time. She watched as the dean sat across from her, and smiled her warmest smile. "Pleasure's all mine, ma'am. It's an honor to be here."

"I'm afraid we'll have to agree to disagree. The honor is all mine." Dean Allen winked before she picked up a packet of papers, all stapled together, and quickly flipped through a few pages. Connie subtly ducked her head to look at the flipped over page, and recognized her name. Her application. "Ms. Maheswaran, I'd like to have a talk with you about your essay."

Connie’s heart plummeted to her stomach. The hair on the back of her neck had been _right._ She tried not to ramble as she explained, "It's all true. I have a lot of witnesses. Photo and video evidence! I-I can write a new essay too, if that one wasn't norm-” No, wrong word. That would set herself in a bad light. She course corrected quickly. “If it wasn't relevant to the admissions process. I thought it answered the question, but I-"

"Did you write about this for every application?" the dean asked calmly, unperturbed by her rambling. "Your experiences with gem life? The Diamond Authority?"

Connie shook her head slowly. "No. Just a couple schools. It wasn't always relevant to the questions on the application. I customized each essay, just like you’re supposed to. You’ll find no plagiarism here, ma’am."

"Good." The dean dropped the fluttering papers and grinned a huge, toothy smile. "Less competition for us."

Connie blinked. "What?"

"We've done the research," Dean Allen said. The eye contact across the table was intense, and Connie met it back fiercely out of habit and training. "We've followed up. We are well aware that you have spent multiple years working as a diplomat with the alien race slowly integrating into human society.”

The woman’s fingers spread wide, perched like a spider on top of Connie’s admission work. She chuckled as she tapped the sheets twice. “You're not here because I thought you were lying, Connie. You're here because this is _spectacular_."

She frowned, feeling her head slowly tilt. She hadn’t thought anything about her composition had been that impressive. In fact, Connie felt like English was one of her worst subjects overall, despite her voracious reading. "Like... My SATs?"

Dean Allen laughed, rapping a knuckle softly on her desk with enthusiasm. "This is why I asked you here! Connie, I'm going to be honest with you. It sounds like I'll be the first one honest with you, which will give Harvale another advantage." She pointed across the desk. "You're already accepted."

Connie’s heart stuttered in her chest. "Wh-what?"

She continued on, not seeming to notice Connie’s open-mouthed shock in the slightest. "You've been working as a diplomat on the most complicated political situation in human history. You don't need to ask schools to take you. We'll be fighting over you. You won't be searching for a job by the time this gets out and you graduate. Governments around the world will be reaching out to you."

She laughed, everything finally clicking into place. "There's a misunderstanding. I must’ve written my essay wrong. I _helped_ Steven Universe with diplomatic missions. He did basically all the work. I didn't…” Her hand was over her heart and she dropped it. This was an interview with the dean of Harvale. She didn’t need to talk her way out of being accepted. But, nevertheless, she couldn’t help but talk up Steven. “You should be fighting over _him_."

"Well, if Steven starts taking tests and applying I'm sure plenty of places will come knocking on his door too.” She shrugged. “But you shouldn't underestimate yourself. Connie, what are you doing in my office at sixteen?"

"Early application. Finishing high school and moving on from Beach City." Because that’s what children did - they left their hometowns. Steven was leaving. Of course, Steven was leaving because he needed to find himself and he needed a break from those who had hurt him, which was something Connie couldn’t really understand. She just needed to leave because she needed to leave. Because walking around Beach City would something make her skin itch and her neck prickle.

"Are you planning to take a break?" the dean asked, jolting her out of her brief reverie.

She blinked. "A break from what?"

"Saving the world." Their eyes met across the table, and again Connie pressed the eye contact with all the ferocity she could muster, refusing to look away. Like most interesting people, the dean didn’t look away as she drawled, "Or do you intend to complete your college education as quickly as possible to get working in politics?"

"The latter."

"Are you in any form of counseling?" she asked.

Connie nodded. That finally made sense too. It wasn’t an easy path she had chosen, and of course she needed some people to help her with the planning or she’d never be able to get her four year degree in three. "I laid out my career path with my school's academic advisor. With my grades they thought I'd be able to pull it off. Is something wrong?"

"That's your only form of counseling? Nothing therapeutic?" she pressed. Connie shook her head. "Do you know what burnout is?"

Connie remembered her mother’s suspicious glances, asking again and again when Connie slept and whether she was having fun and too many comments about burning a candle on both ends. Connie stiffened at the implications. "I'm not burned out."

"Your work ethic and drive is admirable," Dean Allen said. "It is truly amazing the things you've accomplished. But this is not _sustainable,_ Connie. I desperately want Harvale to be your alma mater when you're out making history, but that's not going to happen if you continue down this path. Flunking out doesn’t bring the university credit."

"Excuse me?” Connie snapped, but there was too much venom in her voice. She reined it back. “I’m sorry. I don't understand what you mean."

She laughed. "Do you have any hobbies you're passionate about? Anything at all?"

"Um, tennis. Swordfighting." She hesitated before adding, "Art and writing, but I'm not really good at those, so I don't put them in extra curriculars. I haven’t entered competitions or won awards or gotten commissioned or anything."

The dean leaned over her desk, tilting her head to the side with a kind of confident swagger that Connie made a mental note of to practice mimicking later. "I'm going to cut you a deal, Connie. And I bet it's the best deal you'll get from any college."

"Okay.” She tried to keep her face from wrinkling with suspicion.

"If you drop every application and take a year long break," she said, her words slow, careful instructions. "If you agree to take it slow while you're here in college, Harvale will grant you a full ride."

Her eyes shot open, her voice squeaking with shock. "What?"

"Take a break,"Dean Allen said cheerfully. "Come back to me next year with a major and a minor - political science and one of the artistic hobbies you love. Take light course loads and graduate in six years instead of three. I will give you _everything_ Harvale has to offer, for free, if you agree not to burn yourself out."

She stared, the information seeming to slide right off her brain. She should not talk herself down. She should not discourage the deal. But everything was too impossibly unbelievable and she blurted, "But I'm just Connie."

"Yes. Constance Kahaani Maheswaran," Dean Allen said calmly. A quiet part of Connie screamed in the back of her mind at having her full name said aloud. "You've done big things, and I think you've got plenty more ahead of you. There's nothing I want more than to see you succeed with this university and my name attached."

She slid Connie's application across the counter, a phone number scribbled in the top corner, and Connie gawked at it. "If you want the deal, text me. I know it's a lot to take in. Thank you for your time, Ms. Maheswaran. I hope you realize just how valuable it is."

Her head snapped up. "Yes ma'am! I know how much time you've made to see me, and I appreciate it."

"Not my time," she corrected patiently. "Yours."

They said their goodbyes with a lot of politeness and firm handshakes and intense eye contact, but everything passed in a blur. Soon Connie found herself back in the front hall, phone in her hand, staring at a handful of messages all insisting on knowing what the dean had wanted with her. In a daze, her fingers responded to each one with the same message, "The dean just wanted to check that my essay about the gems wasn't a lie. Everything's fine."

Hair pickled at the back of her neck, and she swallowed as one by one, messages of reassurance and comfort flooded in. Everyone she loved would be eager to send in all the evidence she needed to make sure she wasn’t disqualified. Well, mostly. Because her boyfriend tended to respond to these things a little different lately.

_Stebben University: eVeRyThInG's FiNe_

She choked on a laugh, hand over her mouth as the secretary looked up from behind the desk. Fair enough, Steven. She returned his text with a quick, _The dean wanted to let me know I'm a great fit for the school._

_Vaaaaaaaaaaaaaague_

She frowned. _Are you driving?_

A picture this time. Steven flashing a peace sign in front of his grinning face, pulled into a gravel parking lot of some kind of Midwest park. Followed by the message, _Looked pretty, so I took a detour. Why are you vague, Ms. Everything’s Fine?_

 _Because it was a vague situation. Are we still on for lunch?_ She rolled her eyes as she hit send and headed out the door.

 _You wanna bring me lunch?_ Came the text, followed by another pic of his big cheesy smile.

She grinned and bit back a giggle. _You're out of food?_

_I'm so tired of peanuts and sunflower seeds. I'm crossing trucker off my career list. Connie, help me._

She did giggle that time, and promised to grab him something substantial. She took her time, scouring her phone for places to eat. It was easy enough in a college town - there were a few nice vegan places, and she ordered some hearty, nutritiously dense salads to go. Her mind had filled with calories and macros as she scoured the menu before she had remembered that this was for her and Steven, and she needed to pick something he would actually eat, rather than the healthiest thing on the menu.

Back outside, lunch in hand, she closed her eyes and let her thoughts go to Lion. Searching for the connection was like finding a lost screw on the floor, the sensitive pads on her mental fingertips reaching for that fusion kind of feeling. The moment her mind hit it, Lion was beside her, nuzzling at her hands for pats.

"That's my boy," she said with a laugh. "Come on. Let's go to Steven."


	2. Lunch Date

She never knew where Lion would take her, other than where she needed to go. In the past month or so of Steven’s road trip, visits to her boyfriend could be anything from a comfy bed and breakfast they had agreed to meet at to a spot off the highway Steven had decided to pull over and explore.

Lion’s ears perked and flicked, and another portal opened the moment Connie hopped on his back. Today, they skidded to a stop in front of Steven and his little picnic bench. He looked away from the gurgling river, big and slow and deep dark blue, and up to her. Steven had a gigawatt smile every time she arrived, and her heart always did a funny dance in her chest from his excitement.

Connie held up the bag. "Did someone request vegetables?"

Steven whooped with joy, throwing his hands up. "I won't get scurvy!"

"You better not." She sat across from him, leaning over the table to quickly peck his forehead with a kiss before sitting down on her side. That was about as far as romantic affection went nowadays, which was just fine with her. They hadn’t exactly had the free time to explore much else.

Steven was already setting out the food and handing out the biodegradable forks before the waxed paper containers fell apart. Going green wasn’t always convenient. She smiled at him and pressed, "You're eating in a lot of restaurants, right? Not just fast food?"

"Of course! I even have apples in the car most of the time," he soothed. "Just ran out today and took too long a detour. I need to find a grocery store."

They dug into their salads as they talked about Steven's day. He sheepishly confessed that he was finding most of the touristy locations in the Midwest pretty lame, with only a handful of interesting locations in larger cities. So, more and more, he was veering off his map to hit the pretty countryside, enjoy the greenery and water features. He was starting to get worried about what the Great Plains would hold, because he wasn’t sure how long he’d be enchanted about fields of grain and grass.

Connie attempted to scold him for not giving the states more of a chance, only for him to patiently hold up his phone with a picture of multiple war museums and one extremely depressing exhibit of the glorious history of ethanol corn. Each picture showed the pained smile of a boy trying his best to make good out of a bad situation, and that bad situation was incalculable boredom. Her arguments defending the culture of the flyover states died fairly quickly.

"Sooo... The Dean of Harvale, huh?" he said casually, attempting to sneak the topic to her. "Pretty exciting."

"Not really." She shrugged him off, unwilling to pander to his usual set of conversation tactics. "She just loved my essay and wanted to encourage me to really think about Harvale as my first choice."

"How to Lie 101 - keep it small, keep it true," Steven said cheerfully, an infuriating grin as he popped a cherry tomato in his mouth.

She snorted. "Shut up."

"Shouldn't have taught me your secrets if you didn't want me to use them against you." He propped his head up on his fist as his fork went back to stabbing the remains of his lettuce. "Come on. You're vaguing me. Don't ruin my soul searching road trip because I'm too worried about you to think."

She mock-gasped. "Low blow!"

"I might drive off the road into a ditch," he lamented, sighing as he stared off at the river beyond them. His voice grew more and more miserable with every word, ever the drama queen. "I’m gonna be too distracted by my girlfriend to think about the road, killing a bunch of deer and probably a family of prairie dogs-"

She giggled and squealed, the thought of his car destroying a burrow sending a thrill of funny horror through her. "No! They're one of my favorites! You can't take out an entire coterie!"

His eyes slid back to hers, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Do you think their prairie dog language has a word for car? Or are they not gonna know what to bark when I run them over?"

"Steven no!” she cried, covering her face as more laughter spilled out. “You're too mean!"

"It's your fault, Connie. I'll kill an entire family of innocent prairie dogs because you won't tell me the truth," he scolded. 

"Okay! Okay, stop!" She held her hands out in front of her, waving them frantically as he filled her mind with the tragic idea of murdered adorable rodents. Truly, she was dating the most evil man to ever walk the earth (and, even joking, even in her thoughts, specifically never a _monster_ ). "I'll talk. Don't get me emotional about prairie dogs."

He swept his hands out with a victorious flourish. "You have the floor, m'lady."

Connie took a deep breath. She could do this. Carefully, respectfully, and without saying anything that might send Steven spiraling. It had been a few months. She was getting good at this now. She kept her voice light. "I guess all the gem stuff we did was interesting. The dean made it sound like a really big deal, like I was an intern for a famous diplomat or something."

"Is that bad?" he asked, looking confused. "I mean, that sounds like a really good thing to me. LIke you have a bunch of experience in the stuff they’re gonna teach you. That'd make you really qualified for political science, right?"

"Yeah.” Connie laughed awkwardly and worried at her lower lip for a moment. It was good news, by the stars, she should be excited to tell him. She forced a smile to her face. “She said I was already accepted."

Steven burst into a smile. "What? Connie! That's amazing! You're in already?"

"I..." She hesitated. "There's conditions."

He nodded, serious and supportive. "Go on. Tell me."

She fidgeted back, uncertain of how to explain. She couldn’t explain the prickles at the back of her neck either, the feeling of anxiety crawling into her chest. But something about the deal just felt wrong, so that even as she said it outloud she couldn’t believe she was considering it at all. "She said... She said she'd give me a full ride if I took a gap year and took it slow. Six years, light course load, with a minor in something artistic."

"That's..." Steven said uncertainly.

"It's weird."

"Oh, good. I thought it was weird. Why'd she do that?" He looked relieved to get it right, and went back to munching on his salad like she hadn’t just brought up changing her entire life plan from a single conversation. How on earth could he be so calm?

Connie grumbled, "Because she says I'm gonna burn out if I don't slow down, and she thinks I could get hired right out of school because of all the gem stuff and make Harvale look really good and…” She shook her head and crossed her arms. “Ugh. It's stupid. I don’t know why I’m even thinking about it. I have a plan."

Steven cleared his throat awkwardly, his fork pausing as his eyes nervously flicked up to hers. "I mean... She's not wrong. You're doing a lot. Like, way more than most other people our age? I mean, I’m pretty sure you are."

"Not more than you!" she protested.

"And I _definitely_ burned out. Pretty spectacularly." He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "So maybe she's... right?"

"I have a plan," Connie said, doing her best not to snap or be aggressive with Steven. Still, she could feel frustration and fear creeping up on her at the thought. The whole things, years of work, everything she’d done forgotten and tossed aside because she couldn’t take the stress. It was an impossibly awful idea. "I can't really just... Throw it away to chill out. What did I spend all that time working for?"

"So you could get this amazing offer to chill out?" he suggested cheerfully. "No one else is getting this deal, and you wouldn't have gotten it if you weren't working so hard to get early enrollment. I don't know a lot about college, but getting everything paid for is a really big deal, right?"

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“And, I mean, is it everything?” Steven pressed. “All the classes and the books and the dorms and a meal plan and everything?”

Connie stared down at her food, barely touched, and forced herself to take a few bites to slow the conversation. Still, when she spoke again, the words came out in a frantic rush. “Yes, she said everything! And yes it’s a great deal! But what am I supposed to do? Live in my parent's house and do nothing for a year? I don’t want to be stuck in Beach City for the rest of my-" Course correct. A little circle under the table to still her nerves with a slow breath. “For the rest of the year.”

"You coooould come... with... meee?" Steven said, cringing a little as he raised an eyebrow. "If that's not too clingy for me to ask? I’m not trying to steal your life this time."

Laughter burst from her throat at his worried face, the idea of hopping into his care and ruining his mental health. She shook her head frantically. "Oh my gosh, Steven! I'm not crashing your road trip! You wanted to be alone and find yourself, like your dad did. I’m not going to ruin it by pushing my life on you like everyone else did."

"About that..." He cleared his throat, and his forefinger tugged at the collar of his shirt, though it certainly wasn’t a _tight_ shirt by any stretch of the imagination. It barely even touched his neck.. "My therapist said some stuff before I left. And after I left."

All of Connie's merriment vanished in an instant, her eyes narrowing. "Steven."

"Some stuff about how maaaaaybe a few months isn't really enough time to go off completely on my own with no stability and barely any structure?" He tapped his fingers together, his voice quirking up as if it was somehow uncertain about whether or not his therapist had explicitly warned him off his sudden trip.

Her voice was flat with barely controlled frustration, "But you needed to get out of the temple."

Steven groaned. "I _really_ needed to get out of the temple! I was just getting frustrated with the gems all the time. Dr. Morris totally understood and he didn't say I _shouldn't_ go on the trip. He just said maybe I should bring Dad or a friend or something!"

"But you didn't want to hold me back," she said, voice still flat as she tried to find it in her not to be simultaneously furious and infatuated with her all too predictable boyfriend.

"Because you're gonna be so successful!" he cried, extended his hands towards her like he was presenting her to a watching crowd. "And listen to what you're saying! You're already successful! I couldn't just tell you to stop your dreams and come with me. Especially after the proposal thing! It'd be weird!"

"Were you _ever_ gonna tell me?" she said with a sigh, her head slipping down to rest on her crossed arms. She was sure she was giving him puppy dog eyes, but it wasn’t something she could control at this angle. She resigned herself to a miserable, puppy dog fate as guilt poured over his features.

"I'm telling you now." He tried a nervous smile.

"Partial credit," she muttered, and flicked his salad container with her fingers, sending the nearly empty thing skittering a few inches across the weathered wood. "It could be a really horrible idea. It’d be a super long trip for us to do together in your little car. We'd be together all the time. We might start hating each other a bunch."

"You could leave whenever you wanted," Steven countered, then seemed to think better of arguing. "But if you hate it, you don't have to come with me. You have your own life. If you want to get your own car and go on a road trip somewhere else, or go explore Europe, or... Or the moon, you should.” He smiled at her chuckle. “But you deserve a break too. You don’t have to graduate at nineteen, you know, or even at twenty-two. I'd take the deal."

Connie nodded down at her lunch. Surely Steven would know better than anyone about whether or not someone should take a break. As much as her own stomach twisted with the thought of it, it was worth considering. "Alright. I’ll see what Mom thinks." 


	3. Privacy

Connie didn't exactly lie to her mother anymore. She hadn’t since the night at the hospital. She just left out some details. She had a thrilling time watching Steven fight gem monsters in the north. She had an exciting camping trip on a far off moon. She had a very exciting diplomatic mission to Homeworld. 

But she told her mother everything about the dean's offer. Once she had gotten home, Connie had texted the dean, requesting the offer in writing to show to her mother. Once the email came in, she had all the evidence she needed to lay out before her case that she was not making things up to go on an adventure, and that she understood that her life plan was very serious, and this was just an upgrade to the plan, really.

She had been ready for an impassioned argument, only to have her mother simply raise an eyebrow and mutter, "Thank goodness. Someone finally has the power to make you take a breath."

Connie gawked. "What?" 

"Last time I tried to stop you from doing something you did it harder," Priyanka said with a sigh. “I couldn’t exactly stop you from being successful. I was hoping you'd come to your senses on your own and slow down."

Connie's nose wrinkled as she said, "You always think I'll figure stuff out. Maybe I need a little more guidance so I don't mess everything up."

She clicked her tongue sternly, stirring her cup of coffee that was slowly going cold. "Don't talk that way. You're brilliant. You push hard. And you..." Her mother hesitated. "You won't make the same mistakes I did. You have a lot of options, more options than I ever did."

That was all too familiar. She smiled a little to lighten the mood. "Yup. No matter what happens I’m definitely not having a baby any time soon."

Priyanka lowered her eyes to her mug. "I had to be a mom and get through med school as fast as I could to provide for you, and I wasn't always there for you because of it.”

Connie’s heart skipped a beat as she scrambled to bring the conversation back to optimism. “Oh, no! It was fine! I mean, Steven never got any privacy growing up and I got all the privacy I wanted. You really let me be my own person, even with all the rules.”

“I set up rules to be your mother when I wasn't there," Priyanka confessed quietly. “I burned myself out studying and working and I trusted you to take care of yourself. I didn’t think I had any other choice.” 

"O-oh." Connie looked down at her own plate of apple slices and last night’s chickpea stew as an awkward realization set in. "I've been following the way you said you studied in med school. The fifteen-minute breaks, the focus timers, copying the way you did your notes. I remembered you studying like that when I was really little."

Priyanka winced, and Connie watched her mother’s hands tighten around the mug. "I wasn't a role model of good mental health.” She looked up, meeting Connie’s eyes fiercely. “But I had you, Connie. I did it for you. And you don't have that burden. You have the opportunity to take care of yourself and still have all the success you could ever hope for."

"But the road trip. You don't really want me to just drive around for a year, right?" Connie said suspiciously. Surely at any moment her mother would lay down a thousand rules, whip out a schedule or a planner and insist on all the places Connie should stop to have the appropriate amount of development. "Shouldn't I do community service or something instead?" 

"If I read the email correctly, the point is to take a break. You've done enough extracurriculars to last the rest of your life. You're accepted into Harvale. I’ve always been a strong proponent of letting you handle things unsupervised.” Priyanka smiled a little, always a surprising expression from her stern mother. “Enjoy your trip, make sure you visit home, call me plenty, and make sure you get twins." 

Connie cocked her head. "Twins?" 

"Twin beds. Not a king," her voice was flat, and Connie felt fire leap into her face at her mother’s calm implications. "You have the freedom because you don't have a baby. Let’s keep it that way without any hassle, shall we?" 

"I know!" she squeaked. "Mom, I'm sixteen!" 

"You can get pregnant at sixteen." 

"I'm not going to!" she cried. Connie shook her head, barely even able to stand the nerve-wracking thought of how people got pregnant and who her mother was warning her off doing it with. She explained, desperately explained, "Me and Steven do little pecks on the lips! We're not doing anything like that."

"Well, if you do, I'm here for that too," Priyanka said calmly. "I’m a doctor. I’m not ignorant about what teens get up to. I know what happens when they’re left alone. I trust you not to, but things happen. What do we do if we're over our heads?" 

"Ask for a rescue," Connie murmured, brushing her hair behind a too-hot ear. "Yes, ma'am. I promise to talk to you about it if anything happens." 

"Thank you." She set her coffee down on the table with a quiet thunk and smiled much bigger. "I could help with the packing. I know you’ll be able to stop in if you really need something, but you won’t be coming home every night. Don't want you to forget anything important, like your bunny."

She had been taking a long drink of water and choked immediately, spilling over herself instead of the table. That was even worse. Why couldn’t her mom just talk more about getting knocked up? She protested, her voice squeaking, "Mom! I'm not taking a stuffed animal on a road trip with Steven! I'm practically an adult!" 

"You're sixteen," came the amused reply. 

"Yes!" she agreed. "And I'm not going to sleep with a stuffed animal every night in front of Steven. I'd rather die." 

"A very adult attitude to take." Priyanka chuckled. "Aren't you going to have trouble sleeping? I know you were tired by the end of the week in space camp." 

"I'll get over it." Connie frowned. "I'll pack it all myself. You don’t need to see what I take."

"If you say so. I’ll let you have your privacy." She stood and came to rest her hand on Connie’s shoulder. "You know you can visit and call whenever you need to talk, right? I'll always be here for you." 

"Thanks, Mom." Connie smiled up at her. "I'll come home plenty, I promise." 

* * *

Connie’s stuff fit pretty easily in the Dondai, properly rolled up into tight little balls in his suitcase. It made the thing horribly heavy, but it wasn’t like that was a hassle for Steven, and it wasn’t much of a hassle for her, either. She was sure to bring a backpack as well, full of her laptop, tablet, and a few notebooks. Her parents fixed her up with a great data plan, so internet would never be a problem, and her phone was full to the brim with books and music to keep busy.

Steven was in Kansas when she met him for lunch, just having arrived at the border of the state, and they made cheerful banter about how to divvy up the driving and what they wanted to see in the big, empty place. Steven decided he wanted to drive the rest of the day, give Connie some time to adjust to life on the road.

It was mostly catching up, really, a normal day where they talked about travel and what they’d gotten up to. They were trapped in a car instead of hanging around, but there was music and podcasts and plenty to keep them busy for a long afternoon of cornfields.

The motel they stayed at was clean, which was plenty for Connie after all the times they’d been stuck in less savory situations. Everything was normal, really. A sleepover that was set in the wrong place. She waited for the weirdness to set in, but it never came, and she fell asleep clutching a too flat pillow to her chest.

Light woke Connie later. Light and static. She was alert in an instant, up in bed and searching for the trouble. Steven was asleep, but dimly glowing pink. As she looked to the television, it went from crackling snow to a scene of him in the beach house - being cornered, being scolded, Amethyst's whip wrapping around him.

Connie cringed at the sight, and walked in socked feet to the TV cabinet. Her hands fumbled in the dark, searching for the cord, and yanked it hard from the wall. The television fell quiet, and she stood back and glared at it for a moment, just to ensure it wouldn't misbehave any further. Things tended to misbehave when magic was involved. 

Once satisfied that Steven's power wouldn't override the lack of a power source, she grabbed her pillows and slid into Steven's bed from behind. There was a tiny flash of guilt for breaking her mother's rules straight out of the gate, but she was sure her mom would understand, given the circumstances. And, besides, it technically wasn't breaking the rules at all because they had gotten the separate beds, even if they weren't using them. Her mother had said to  _ get _ separate beds, hadn’t she?

She put the pillow down between Steven's glowing back and her own face, effectively blocking the light. Her arm wrapped around his waist, and she thought grumpily that he was too hot while he was lit up like this, and she'd be sweaty in the morning, and she'd have to take another shower.

And then she fell right back asleep.

* * *

Steven woke up before Connie, snuggled up behind him with only a pillow to keep them apart. Trying not to bother her much, he carefully wiggled and turned to grab his phone off the nightstand, browsing a few websites. Her warmth at his side was familiar, and desperately missed after some time traveling on the road.

The gems had always been physically affectionate if nothing else. Rarely a day went by when Steven hadn’t found himself touching and being touched by people he loved, constant reminders of affection. He hadn’t realized just how quickly losing all of that would take a toll, and just how comforting it was just to have a warm body next to his own again.

Despite his care, it didn’t take much to wake her. She grinned slowly, and sighed her best dramatic sigh. "You forgot all about last night, didn't you? Even though it was so magical?" 

He flushed, heart speeding against his ribcage. Just because it was normal didn’t mean she couldn’t make it very  _ not _ normal. Didn’t mean she couldn’t make him suddenly aware that they were alone in a motel in the same bed, with the only thing saving him from feeling every bit of her against him was a cheap pillow. "Wh-what?" 

She sat up and jerked her thumb at the TV. "It was playing your dreams again, so I unplugged it before I saw too much. Thought you’d want to know that you’re still doing that."

Steven could feel himself gawking, then slowly turned it into a smile. She’d just unplugged it. She’d gotten up and saw his dreams and all she did about it was yank the cord out and come sleep with him. He was downright  _ giddy _ about it. "You just... Turned it off? You didn't want to know what I was dreaming about?" 

"It was obviously a nightmare." She shrugged as she rolled out of bed, heading to the bathroom as she called, "But you're in therapy for all this stuff, right? And if you were glowing, it means you were freaked out. So it was probably private and none of my business. But I’m always here to talk about it if you want!"

"Privacy." Steven laughed a little and rubbed his neck as he heard the sink turn on. "Wow. That's a new one."

"You can have it whenever you want," Connie said, peeking her head around the bathroom door. "Just ask me to take a walk and I'll give you a break. You can even text it if you don't want to say it out loud. But you're getting help, and I'm not gonna push at you about everything, not unless something looks really bad."

Her head vanished, and he leapt out of bed to watch as she brushed her teeth in the sink. “Anytime I want? What if I just want to watch a show you hate?” Mouth full, she flashed him an okay sign. “What if I wanna be alone while I take a shower? What if I have a headache? What if I just kinda wanna be alone?” He rambled off questions, and each one was met with an okay, a thumbs up, before she spat into the sink and washed off her brush.

“Seriously, anything. And you can drive off with the car too as long as you give me a heads up. Don’t head to the next state but I’m not gonna bug you about what you want to do.” She started packing up her travel bag with a shrug. “We’re traveling together but that doesn’t mean we have to do literally everything together. Take all the alone time you need.”

Steven giggled, his head falling to the side with an adoring, lovesick look. "You're the sweetest girl in the world." 

She grinned back at him. "I'm not even the sweetest person in this room. C'mon, get ready and let's hit the road."


	4. Stress Test - Radio Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just want to say before you read - the next two chapters are basically the lowest point the fic ever gets in terms of Steven and Connie's relationship. They have some arguments. They're gonna be fine and this isn't, like, them being incompatible. They're just working out how to live together on this endless road trip.
> 
> I didn't want anyone freaking out that I was killing connverse or anything, lol.

"Just remember to take a breath when you get frustrated," Greg told him. "I'm sure you kids'll be fine. Sometimes you just gotta take a minute to calm down before you say something you'll regret."

Steven rolled his eyes as he wandered the parking lot of Jerry's Deli, which hadn't been half-bad considering it was a nowhere place in a nowhere town. Every so often you got a treasure. Connie was still inside polishing off some house-made potato chips and ranch while he called his dad to update him. He wasn't exactly thrilled by the caution in his dad's voice.

"I'm with Connie, Dad. You know, the girl I went to space with? Saved my life a few months ago? I'm pretty sure we're going to be okay."

"Listen, schtu-ball, there are people who will help you through the darkest parts of your life, be your best friend, and take care of you when you need it most. And, sometimes, you never want to be in a car with them for more than an hour." Steven opened his mouth to argue, but his dad kept talking, "I'm not saying Connie won't be both! But living together like this is a whole different beast. It's like a relationship stress test. Everyone should go on a road trip together before making any big commitments."

Steven sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We're gonna be fine, Dad. It’s been four days and we’re having a lot of fun! Hiking, museums…” That was kind of all there was in the middle of the country. “It’s going great. We’re meeting cool people, having fun, but I'll keep it in mind, okay? I'll call if I need help."

"That's all I wanted to hear. Love ya, kiddo."

They said their goodbyes, and Steven headed back into the deli and fished out his credit card. The heavy platinum beast weighed down the check as he sipped at his soda, and Connie sucked a bit of ranch off her thumb. She checked the bill, made a little surprised noise at the number, then looked to him.

"How much cash do you have?" she asked cheerfully. "I've got around a hundred in twenties, but if you're running low we should make sure to stop by the grocery store. We’ll pick up food and cash before we get going."

"I don't carry cash," Steven said as the waitress swept by and whipped the check away. "Dad gave me an unlimited card."

She snorted. "Steven, we're driving through the middle of nowhere. What if we hit a town with downed power lines? Or just outdated tech? Or even a shop owner suspicious of credit cards? You've gotta carry cash on a road trip."

Cash was mostly fine. Bills said what they were worth in the corner. Easy. But bills were broken down into change, and some amount of cents went into a dollar (Sixty? One hundred?) and there were a bunch of little coins that were all worth something (the copper ones were worth one cent, he remembered that one). When they handed him coins and change and did the math on the fly he felt fidgety and wrong and stupid.

"You've got cash," he said with a grin. "You can deal with it."

Her eyebrows came together, and she had to stifle a yawn before continuing. "What if we separate for a while? You seriously shouldn't just rely on their credit card. It could get risky."

He didn't want to talk about it. He smiled. "Sure. We'll grab cash on the way out of town."

Steven just wouldn't use it. When the check came back and it was time to fill out the tip, his phone sat heavy in his pocket. He couldn't pull out the tip calculator. She'd know he didn't know how to do it in his head. Thirty-three forty-six. He frantically scribbled down fifteen in the tip line and folded it over so Connie couldn't see. That was more than enough, right? Closer to fifty than thirty. So he was a generous tipper. Great. He had the money for it. Everything was working out fine. 

So they hopped in the car and they went to the grocery store, Connie snagging a basket before quickly heading to produce. He watched suspiciously as Connie loaded up on apples, a few bananas, and carrots with dressing, happily chattering about the diner with him. Moving through the store added protein and meal bars, the kind of self-sustaining food people got to get them through hikes.

“You know I’ll pay for us both to eat, right?” Steven asked with a little chuckle. “Even with both of us eating out all the time, Dad’s still gonna save more money than he spends. I don’t know how investing works, but I guess he gets a bunch of money for free?”

Connie laughed. “Yeah. It’s kinda messed up. If you have a bunch of money it’s really easy to turn it into more money. But what if the car breaks down? We don’t want to be stuck somewhere without food.”

“We can call Lion,” Steven pointed out happily. “It’s gonna be fine.”

He saw her posture stiffen, her fingers tighten around then basket. “What if he doesn’t come? Sometimes he’s not in the mood.”

“He’s never not in the mood when we’re in danger,” he retorted.

“But what if this time he doesn’t?” Connie shoved a box of protein bars in with a frown. She was about to start talking again with a huge yawn hit her, and she apologized before trying again, “I’ll pay for it. Don’t worry. We just can’t rely on Lion when he’s not dependable. He’s a good boy, but he’s still just a big cat and he could mess us up.”

His eyes widened. “Connie! It’s  _ Lion _ . He practically lives at your house! Sometimes I think he’s your best friend more than I am.”

She took a deep breath, then laughed and shook her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Gees, four days in and we’ve had our first argument. Sorry for being so stubborn about it. I’ll get the stuff this time and try not to load up so heavy in the future, okay?”

Steven smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. Back to normal. “Sounds great to me, Strawberry.”

She gently tapped his chin with her fist. “Then we’re all good, Biscuit.”

* * *

Every night Connie laid in her stupid bed and she stared at the stupid ceiling and she wished she had her stupid bunny, because she was stupid. She held a pillow and fell asleep and she had stupid nightmares because she was so stupid.

She jerked awake again and again, dreaming of Steven shoving her off the sky arena. Dreaming of Pearl refusing to train her. Dreaming of her mother shoving her out of the house, or her house not being where it was supposed to be. Everyone vanished. Everyone gone.

Drowned, stabbed, crushed and beaten. Locked away and forgotten. Buried alive. Endless dreams of dying that ruined her sleep, not lingering enough to keep her awake. Fleeting enough that she slipped back to nightmares again and again, so that bags slipped under her eyes.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She woke up angry every day and reined it in.

It’d get better soon. She was sure of it.

* * *

Day five and Connie only seemed more irritable than ever. She seemed grumpy that he never handled cash, that he was hesitant to carry it himself. She caught glimpses of his checks and remarked that he tipped big, and though she didn’t mean it in a judgemental way he still felt discomfort crawling up his back.

He munched on produce while he drove and he picked the music while she kept herself busy on her laptop and phone. And then, casually, he decided he’d like one of the meal bars. Something thick and chewy and sugary sounded amazing, so he asked Connie to hand him one. Without even glancing up from her phone, she said, “That’s not what they’re for. I’ll grab you an apple.”

Steven scoffed. “Okay, so you bought a bunch of meal bars and protein bars but I can’t eat them because…? They’re for decoration?”

“Because you eat the perishables first,” she explained, looking up from her screen.

He barely kept himself from scoffing again, from getting mad or aggressively. His eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, always paranoid of a pink blush coming to his cheeks. It was a fear response, not an anger response, but he all too often found it impossible to tell the difference. 

Face clear, he said a little too snappishly for his own liking, “Yeah, if we’re stranded in the desert I’ll keep that in mind, but there’s a McKing’s every twenty miles so I think I can skip the bananas and have a protein bar.”

“Whatever,” Connie said, sounding like talking with him was the most exhausting thing in the world. She twisted around to dig through the grocery bags in the backseat. “I don’t wanna fight. You can have a bar.”

Steven hated the dismissal in her tone. She had never brushed him off like this. She had never seemed to be so ignorant when he was upset, so uncaring about her words and how they hit his feelings. His hands tightened on the wheel. It was just a stress test. It was just a rough patch. It’d get better soon. He was sure of it.

* * *

“You have bags under your eyes,” Steven noted when they crashed at a motel. The art museum had been pretty, but Connie had seemed dazed and unable to focus on any of the paintings. Maybe because it was modern art? Steven had to admit he wasn’t that knowledgeable about modern art. It was pretty confusing, but the audio tours helped a lot.

“Stress,” she muttered, falling face-first onto the bed.

He stroked her back softly. “You wanna talk about it?”

“It’s just traveling.” She grabbed a pillow and held it tight to her chest. “I need some time to adjust.”

“You know, you said you’d leave whenever I needed some privacy. Do you think maybe you might need some?” he asked gently. “I could go for a walk, especially if you wanted to try to get some sleep on your own? You’ve been yawning a lot. Maybe you’re having trouble with the time difference?”

“Maybe.” She peered up at him. “You know, I’ll go for a run. Maybe I’m just not getting enough exercise. I can try to tire out my body really well. Sometimes that works, you know? Forces your body to sleep better.”

He smiled, and she smiled, and things felt normal for a bit. She changed into some more athletic clothes in the bathroom, then quickly hurried out the door to run herself ragged. Steven fell back on his bed, pulling out his phones to jot things down for his next session with Dr. Morris, because apparently his dad was right.

Something about the road trip was messing with Connie. Maybe it was how he was dealing with money or math. Maybe he wasn’t being supportive enough. She was always so careful with him, never messing anything up. Maybe that was too much to ask. Maybe people like Connie weren’t supposed to chill out with him. Maybe they were supposed to go be successful.

He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to make it better. He knew that Dr. Morris would probably say it wasn’t his job to make everything better, but sometimes it was. Sometimes there were things Steven could do, and he should do them, and Dr. Morris told him how to do it without getting himself all bent out of shape.

But, oddly, as Steven wrote everything down, he realized that his dad wasn’t quite right with his warning. He didn’t mind being stuck in a car with Connie. He loved the little happy moments they were having together. He loved not being alone in his travels. He loved having someone to touch and care for and take care of him.

So what if the road was bumpy? He’d driven those before. 

They always smoothed out in the end.


	5. Stress Test - Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here's a map!](https://universallywriting.tumblr.com/post/614346769969577984/su-fan-map)  
> I'll be using this from here on out as a road trip guide!
> 
> [Art commissioned from Suf-fering!](https://suf-fering.tumblr.com)

Day six, and Steven really didn’t understand what Connie was doing.

She was on a road trip with him. He hadn’t gone on a lot of road trips, and he’d never gone on a road trip with his girlfriend, but he was pretty sure that the whole point of it was to enjoy the world, have fun together in the car. Bonding kind of experiences. Exploring. Connie had always loved exploring with him, so it all should have come naturally.

But none of it seemed to come naturally. There were places he wanted to see and Connie never disagreed or made her own suggestions. She let him control all the music. She grabbed her laptop and her phone and slowly, with little peaks out of the corner of his eye, he came to realize that Connie wasn’t browsing pictures or reading for fun.

Connie was studying.

It had taken a while because she was studying art and writing. Snippets of prose and pretty pictures so often filled her screen, and it wasn’t until he started looking at the text that he saw dry academia explaining the virtues of the liberal arts, and how one could learn to mimic it in their own work.

“You know, you’re not even talking to me anymore,” Steven muttered, letting bitterness slide into his voice even though he hated doing it. But he was supposed to express himself, he was supposed to explain his feelings to those he loved. So he did his best to do as Dr. Morris had taught him. “Are you seriously studying?”

Connie shrugged looking away from her laptop to rub at her eyes. “I’ve got to figure out if I’m gonna do writing or art as the minor, and I need to figure out what I’m good at. If I don’t study I can’t figure out where I need improvement or what I’ll be successful in.”

“Isn’t the whole point that it’s supposed to be fun? Low stress? You don’t have to do amazing or take that many classes because it’s a minor.” He was pretty sure that it was all correct. He was terrified because he felt so stupid all the time and Connie wasn’t very good at making him feel smart right now, not like she usually was, but he said it anyway. That’s what Dr. Morris would tell him to do.

She heaved a huge sigh. “Yeah, well, if I want to graduate as valedictorian I’ll still need to ace everything, so I can’t really slack off.”

“Why would you graduate as valedictorian?” A startled laugh burst from him. Was that what she was going to do in college when the dean had already said she’d have careers being handed to her? She was going to study like she’d been studying for the past couple years, never stopping, always working, so that he barely ever got to see her? He could feel his temper flare. “In, like, the most competitive school in America?”

“I mean, I probably won’t, but why not try?”

The disbelief kept sneaking into his voice, louder and more aggressive as his fingers tightened on the wheel. A glance in the mirror. Maybe a touch of blush? No. Just blood. No magic. Angry, not scared. Concerned? His powers were under control even as his voice came snappier, “Because you’re supposed to be slowing down? Chilling out? So you don’t burn out?”

“Yeah. I guess.” She looked back down at her laptop with another huge yawn. “Whatever.”

“You keep saying whatever!”

“Because I don’t want to argue with you.”

His laugh came out angry and mocking even to his own ears. “Why argue? You could _listen_. You’re normally pretty good at that, but I guess being stuck in a car kind of ruined it? What’s up with you?”

“Steven, I’m tired.” Connie rubbed her temples. “I don’t have the energy to deal with it.”

“Take a nap!”

“I’m fine.”

“You just said you’re not!” The car was accelerating, creeping up to ninety on the empty road, and his breath caught as he eased off the pedal. He expected concern from Connie, but she hadn’t seemed to notice at all that they had gone nearly twenty over. She wasn’t even looking out the window. Her eyes were glued to her screen.

“You are just…” She took a deep breath through her nose and shook her head with a little growl. “Whatever.”

* * *

He had a therapist appointment tonight. If he just finished making it through day six, he could talk to Dr. Morris. If Dr. Morris couldn’t help, he could talk to Dad. He just had to get through the stupid day, with Connie looking like she was about to collapse at any second, and her tone getting testier and testier with every passing hour.

Steven already had his stomach curling with guilt, everything on edge. He’d frustrated her with the cash again, refusing to take her money to buy something she wanted and he didn’t, and now he was starting to come off as controlling, he thought. He wasn’t letting her spend her money. Except it wasn’t that, because she could spend her money, but he didn’t want cash. But he couldn’t tell her why and...

He swept an agitated hand through his hair. “How far are we from Kansas City?”

Connie quickly checked the map. “Fifty miles.”

“Like, in time?” he asked.

A laugh, an almost mean one. It was rude, disbelieving. “We’re going sixty.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to do the math.”

Connie stared at him, and the look on her face made him squirmy even out of the corner of his eye. “What _math_? We’re going sixty!”

“That’s still math!” he snapped.

“Are you _serious_?” she cried, throwing her hands up. Her laptop nearly tumbled from her lap, and she grabbed it as she continued furiously, “Steven, sixty miles per hour. Sixty minutes in an hour. It’s a mile a minute! There’s no math! The number of miles is the number of minutes!”

A blush - red cheeks, though, not pink. The embarrassment was awful. She _never_ made him feel this way. “I’ve been driving a lot. My brain’s fried.”

“Then let me drive. We can split up the distance by-”

“I don’t wanna remember numbers.”

“Steven.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, frustration in her tone. “Just talk to me.”

“It’s fine,” he muttered. Normally he’d talk to her plenty. Normally they’d sit down and have a long chat about their issues. Normally he could tell her what was wrong. But he didn’t want to talk to her when she got like this. “I’ll talk to my therapist tonight. Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

Dr. Morris had said a lot of things - especially a lot of things about Steven being self-focused. His therapist had gently pushed and prodded about whether the problem with Connie could be something other than his weak math skills, and Steven had agreed that it could be but he was pretty sure it was all his fault again.

So his therapist had advised a heart to heart with an open mind in the morning of the seventh day, before they set out too far. They stopped in a coffee shop in Kansas City, a really impressive one with pastries that made them both moan and coffee drinks that were the perfect amount of sweet. They traded sips and bites, and like after every breakfast, Connie was in her best mood. Now was the time to talk.

“Connie, I need to talk to you about something important. I’m really embarrassed, so if you could be really nice to me it’d help a lot,” Steven began softly.

She looked concerned, alert, and she set her full attention on him. “I’ll be really understanding, Steven. I promise.”

“You know how I didn’t go to school? And Dad didn’t teach me a lot of stuff?”

Yeah,” she said with a nod. “I know you missed out.”

“I... “ He fidgeted, but she was Connie, and she really did seem really nice about it right now, like things were supposed to be. “I don’t know how to do some math. I mean, I know how to do a lot of basic stuff, but I never learned how to count money, because the gems didn’t need it. I don’t really think about how to convert stuff? B-because it never came up with the gems. Same with percentages, with all the tips. I just have an app on my phone.”

“Oh.” Connie’s eyes widened slightly. Her hands came over her mouth. “Oh, gosh. Steven, I’ve been such a jerk! I’m so sorry!”

“No, it’s okay! I didn’t tell you.” He reached out to take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Do you think it’d be less stressful if I let you deal with that stuff? I’ll keep trying to learn math on my own, but if you wanted to do it I’d just stay out of it, and then you wouldn’t get frustrated with me?”

“I haven’t been frustrated with you!” Connie insisted. “Oh, gees! Steven, I’d _never_ be frustrated with you over something like this!”

His brows knit together. “But you’ve been so angry lately.”

“I’m tired and stressed.” She felt silent for a second, her fingers slowly running along his own, affectionately massaging the tip of each before she explained, “All this stuff reminds me of moving all the time, when I was growing up. But I can feel myself getting over it, seriously. I-I haven’t been pulling my weight anyway. I’ll take care of all that stuff, and everything will get easier.”

“Thanks, Connie.” He laughed sheepishly. “Sorry I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” she said, and for a bit he felt like things were back to normal. She grabbed her chair and tugged it so she was right next to him, hugging him tight. “People didn’t teach you the things they should have. And I’m happy to teach it to you now, too, if you want.”

Connie pulled back with a sigh, looking up at him. “If I wasn’t all stressed out I’d be a better girlfriend about all this. I would’ve picked up on it sooner. I promise I’m gonna get better. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, and gently pecked her lips. “We’ll make it work.”

* * *

But she didn’t.

After breakfast, Connie’s attitude again took a slow descent into frustration. She snapped as she covered up yawns. She rubbed at her eyes and muttered under her breath. She refused to hold a conversation and kept getting wrapped up in her own studying, her own reading, and Steven’s frustration mounted with every second.

So Dr. Morris was right. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t about the math.

“I don’t care where we go,” she was saying, practically growling. Her voice was booming into the small car, sound waves bouncing around the little container. “Go wherever you want! I’m just here for the ride.”

Steven took a deep breath. In for three, hold for three, out for three. He counted and drove, letting the habits Garnet had introduced and Dr. Morris had refined help soothe his growing temper, until he felt calm enough to speak. "Connie, I need you to talk nicer to me."

"I am talking nice! I'm just talking loud!” But even she didn’t seem to believe that, because there was a crack in her voice, and when he glanced over her face was scrunched up like she was about to cry. “And I can't stop because I'm mad and frustrated and I'm really tired because I don't have my stupid bunny and I haven’t slept in a whole week and I just wanna sle-"

Connie barely caught herself as the car jerked, the heels of her hand slamming into the dashboard. Steven had hit the brakes a little too hard in his shock, and he pulled over to the side of the road. His hand grabbed the shifter, putting them in park with a quiet thunk, before he turned to face her. "You _what_?"

She covered her mouth as she sat up. "Sorry! I'll talk nicer."

"You're not _sleeping_?" he asked. His thumb came out, sweeping at the circles under her eyes, remembering all the signs of exhaustion from the past for days. His tone softened, sweetened immediately. "I thought this was from arguing. Why can't you sleep? What's your bunny?"

She pushed his hand away, looking back to the road with a strange expression on her face. "It's nothing."

His hands drummed on the wheel for a moment, frustration building. Was this what it was like when he was obviously struggling and wouldn’t talk to anyone? He barely stopped himself from laughing. His girlfriend was a saint, because seven days of this and he was already about to explode. Steven said, "Okay, can I be honest with you? Really honest, and not really nice?"

"Go ahead," she muttered. “I’m not nice, so why should you be?”

"You're just, like..." He took a deep breath. Three in, three hold, three out. It had to be said. "You're a brat right now. You're snapping at me about everything. You're getting really frustrated. You don't want to talk. You're not yourself at all. I'm guessing it's because you can't sleep?”

She closed her laptop, the silent little click heavy. “Probably.”

“So, can you tell me why?"

Connie watched as a truck zoomed by them on the highway, then quietly confessed, "I sleep with a stuffed rabbit at home. I don't sleep really well when I don't have it. I thought it'd get better, but it's been really bad."

"Did you bring it to space camp?" he said, which wasn’t a fair question. Whether she had remembered it for space camp but not for him had nothing to do with the situation now, but he could feeling curiosity gnawing at him, frustration at the idea that she knew this would be a problem and did nothing to stop it.

"No, and I got kind of cranky. But I wasn't moving around at space camp?" She frowned, slowly hugging the laptop to her chest, like the way she held the pillows to her chest. It clicked as he realized - the way she’d hold a toy to her chest. Connie said, "When I was moving all the time the beds kept changing but I always had my bunny, and it was really comforting. And now it kind of feels like I'm moving every day, so I get nightmares."

“I get those too,” he said, reaching out to reassuringly stroke her arm. “What about?”

She laughed a little, shaking her head. “Everything. You know, falling, getting beaten up, messing up in combat, getting trapped.” She hesitated, then added, “People moving without me. Not finding my home. Getting stuck places. I dream about you leaving me a lot too, after everything. Just a lot of really bad dreams.” 

"You shouldn't have to deal with those dreams, and we've got space," Steven said, reaching into the back and snagging a bag of jerky. "I'll go grab it."

The door opened, and a few seconds later Lion had leaped through a portal, looking a little cranky but eager once he spotted the bag. He fed a few pieces to his good boy while Connie scrambled out of the car. Why did she look so freaked out? "W-wait! You don't have to do that! Steven, I'm sixteen! I don't need a stupid toy to fall asleep."

"Uh, yeah you do?" He raised an eyebrow. Maybe one of the symptoms of sleep deprivation was amnesia and forgetting the conversation you had literally five seconds ago. "You just said you did."

"It's just a bad habit! I'll break it,” she insisted. “I'll talk to you nicer! I'm sorry I've been such a jerk."

"Connie, what's the problem?" He ran his hands through Lion's mane, scratching the warm skin underneath and getting a happy rumble. "It's gonna take five seconds."

She balled her fists up at her sides, her face scrunching up with a petulant rage. "Because it's embarrassing! I'm not a stupid kid! I'm nearly an adult and... And what am I going to do?” She threw her arms up with exasperation. “Sleep with a stuffed animal forever?"

"Sure," Steven said with a shrug. "It doesn't hurt anyone. You feel better. Who cares? I don't get what's embarrassing about it."

"Because it's what kids do!" she shouted.

"No. Kids throw tantrums because they're tired and won't take a nap," Steven said as flatly as he could manage. It did what he hoped it would - an embarrassed squeak from Connie, then nothing as she ran out of retorts. He hopped on Lion with a wink. "I'm gonna grab your bunny, and you're gonna catch up on sleep. Hold on."

Vanished and back in under a minute, Steven found the bunny on her bed. It wasn’t hard to spot - soft brown, floppy ears, and all-around oversoft from years of cuddling compared to the otherwise tidy and well-maintained room. She was in the car when he got back, and Lion seemed happy to wander off the highway on his own adventure. _Good for him_ , Steven thought, and then immediately retracted as Lion ripped an inconvenient fence post from the ground and strode off onto private property.

Well. Not everything could be his problem. He pushed a travel pillow into her arms and quickly queued up soft, relaxing music. He was wide awake, and it’d be nice to listen to something chill for a while as they made their way to the next museums and explored a few towns. "Take a nap, Connie. I know I'm a jerk when I'm tired."

Sheepish, too ashamed and silly to respond, she took it all and curled up against the window. To his surprise, Connie fell asleep before the second song ended, snoring in a way that made him bite back a smile as they drove down the road. He’d have to keep it quiet, but he could suddenly see the childishness and embarrassment. The stuffed animal tucked beneath her chin, her arms crushing it tight to her chest, didn’t exactly scream “I’m a sword-swinging knight that helped topple an empire”.

But it was pretty cute, and Steven did love cute things.

And, when they got their destination and parked, he watched as she woke and blinked at him, far more peaceful than she'd been in a while. A nap didn’t fix it all, but it was a start. And, like the coffee from breakfast, it’d help tide her over until she could finally get a good night’s sleep.

"Good rest?" he asked, ruffling her hair.

She nodded, squeezing the rabbit tight. His heart nearly melted on the spot. That wasn’t fair at all. He did all the cute things. She couldn’t come on a road trip and be all pretty in his car and then _also_ be too cute to stand. She smiled, and his heart burst on the next beat. "No bad dreams. I'm sorry I was such a brat the past few days. I really messed up."

“Everyone does sometimes,” he said. “Besides, road trips are basically the biggest stress test a relationship can handle, right? But here we are on the other side, figuring it out."

She dropped the bunny, and he was sad about the sudden drop in adorableness before Connie leaned forward to kiss his nose with a firm shake of her head. “No. I’m supposed to take care of you. I’m always supposed to be there for you. It’s not okay for me to act that way, especially when it was something so little and stupid. I should’ve talked to you.”

“Thank you,” he said, feeling his heart warm as he rested his forehead against hers for a moment. “It’s okay if you mess up sometimes. You’ve still got the best track record in the whole family, you know.”

She laughed, rocking back. “Heck yeah. No more jerk Connie.” She held out her fist with a little smile. "Back to being nice people who trust each other and don't act like stupid, not-talking grown-ups, right?"

Steven laughed and tapped her fist with his own. "Back to being Jam Buds." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time we'll be meeting Sadie and Shep!


	6. Sadie

"They play a lot of smaller shows," Steven explained as they wandered the busy city streets of Kansas. It had been odd to go from rolling grain to cement jungle in minutes, and their exploration of the busy restaurants and shops had been fun for the past few days. "But my dad says getting venues to take you at all in a city this big is a big deal because someone could see you."

Connie nodded as she soaked in all that information. She probably knew it all already. Now that his girlfriend was finally getting real sleep, he was back to being amazed at just how brilliant she was. When they wandered museums she knew half the things there already, and the other half all seemed to be quickly filed away for later.

With Kansas City being the massive tourist attraction it was, they had lingered there, and by the end of the second day it felt like Connie had the streets so memorized the map was useless. So Connie probably remembered Shep and Shep’s pronouns and every little thing he had ever said about them.

"And it's just Sadie and Shep?" she checked. “Your dad is getting all the stuff set up with the concert, so we’re not gonna see him until tomorrow.”

"Yeah!" he said cheerfully. "And Shep likes they pronouns."

"I remember!" Because of course she did. He was sure he was all starry-eyed, staring as she took a bite out of her pretzel-wrapped hot dog followed by a sip of her boba tea. He sipped at his own drink, though his lunch had long since been tossed in a trash can. "You know, we talked about it a little, but I was wondering how you felt about the Diamonds calling you a girl all the time."

He laughed. "I hated it."

"It was really that upsetting?" Connie asked, looking a little surprised. "I mean, I guess I sort of knew it was upsetting, and I know some people care a lot, but I never really thought about it before. I guess I kind of assumed it was all mom stuff."

"Mom stuff was part of it. I’m Steven Universe. Mom stuff is  _ always _ part of it.” He grinned and delighted in her giggle. “But the boy stuff was a big part of it too. I know I’m a guy, you know? It just felt  _ wrong _ . Like someone called me a bug or something."

She snorted. "Wow. Didn't know being a girl was that bad."

He laughed. "No! Not that. It's not that being a girl is  _ bad _ . It's that I'm  _ not _ one, you know? Like you'd hate it if I called you a boy."

She took another bite, chewing thoughtfully, then confessed, "I don't think I’d care."

“That's because you haven't had it happen to you. Nobody's called you a boy and really meant it. If they did, you'd get it. It just feels bad." He searched for a metaphor and shoved his hands in his pockets, taking in the towering buildings and bustling streets they walked down. "It's like someone's calling you a liar about your name, or how old you are." 

"I guess to me, all that stuff's just, you know..." She waved her hand absently. "It doesn't feel real. Boy stuff. Girl stuff. It's just stuff. If someone thought I was a boy it'd probably be because I was acting all boy, so it'd make sense."

"I'm a boy," Steven said, shaking his head. "Even in a dress I'm a boy. I  _ know _ I'm a boy. That doesn't go away when I put on different clothes. I can’t explain it, I guess. I don’t know a lot about what being Steven is, but I know Steven’s a boy."

She winced, confessing. "I’m sorry. I just don't get what that means. I know you’re a boy! And I believe you! I just… I don’t  _ get _ that feeling."

"You don't feel like a girl?" He gawked, shocked. 

"I don't know. I look like a girl. I guess I kind of act like a girl. So... Girl." She shrugged a little and gestured at herself. Connie didn’t exactly dress feminine, but he’d hardly call it androgynous. Her shorts, pants and polos were all women’s cut, creating a professional but feminine silhouette. Although she’d had a few more tomboy looks when they were kids, more utilitarian clothes had dropped her into a more simple style.

"That's not really how it works," he explained, fumbling for the reasons. It was tricky to find the words for his complicated gender situation - being thoroughly cis but consistently misgendered and misnamed. He tried, "It's about how you feel more than anything. Because I can shapeshift all the girl parts, if I want-" 

Her eyes widened. "You  _ can _ ? You're that comfortable?" 

Steven laughed. He should’ve seen that coming, and shook his head. "I can but I'm not gonna, because I want to be like a boy. Because I feel like a boy. You don't feel like a girl?"

"I don't know what that means," she sighed, defeated. "You're telling me you  _ feel _ like a boy. You're a boy and you want everyone to treat you like a boy. It just feels all wobbly."

He sighed. "It does feel all wobbly, especially with Stevonnie and Smokey and Rainbow..." 

Connie giggled, nudging him. "I was gonna say the opposite. Stevonnie's easy. One hundred percent not a boy and not a girl. Very them. Very cool."

"Mmm. Guess that's some of the fun of growing up, right?" he said cheerfully. "We get to figure out who we are. Could be anything."

She poked his cheek with a giggle. "Except you're  _ definitely _ not a girl."

"Definitely." He laughed back. “Hey, why don’t we split up this afternoon? I’ll hang with Sadie, you hang with Shep. Maybe Shep’ll wanna talk about gender stuff. And, if not, they’re really cool.”

Connie bit her lip, thinking about that. “I don’t wanna pressure them to talk about anything. It’s not like every trans person has to be an educator, you know? But maybe if it comes up, it’d be nice to talk about. And if not I’d love to talk to the person who walked you through a meltdown without even knowing who you were.”

And so they did. As always, Steven was left in awe that the girl who’d once been too shy to go to a school dance could hold out her hand with all the eagerness and grace of a social butterfly. He found himself lovesick as she reestablished her relationship with Sadie and seemed to make quick friends with Shep. His thoughts turned to  _ Gees, why is she with me? _ and he wasn’t sure if that was negative self-talk Dr. Morris would scold, or if it was just appreciation for the most amazing girl on the planet.

“Uh, fuck yeah I’d love to see some of that,” Shep said, smiling wide. “There’s like a park with some open space right around here. You wanna hop in my car and show off your acrobatics?”

Connie laughed, ducking her head. “Oh, gees. It’s not as impressive as you’d think. I don’t even have my sword. That’s what I’m really good at. But I know Steven wanted some alone time with Sadie, so let’s do it!”

He kissed her quickly, saying, “Thanks for remembering. Have a good time,” and waving as she hopped in the car and vanished with Sadie’s partner. He looked at Sadie, who smiled brightly at him as he asked, “You wanna hang in the Dondai and catch up a little?”

“Can’t think of anything better,” Sadie agreed.

They hopped in, and Steven grinned as he slipped in Sadie and Shep’s album. Immediately Sadie laughed, a flush on her face as she hit eject and gave him a good-natured scolding. He let her pick the music instead, barely paying attention as she sorted through.

"If it’s not too weird to ask, why's it working with Shep but it didn't work with Lars?" Steven asked, then, seeing her face, swiftly added, "I don't mean why didn't you and Lars work because I think you should be with him. I mean more relationship advice. Romantic relationship advice."

Sadi’s face lit up. "Oh yeah! I guess that officially applies to you now, huh? Congratulations, Steven."

He laughed, blushing a little. "Thanks. It's been a little weird getting here. Labels always felt really weird to me and Connie. Just saying friends felt too weak, with all the saving each other's lives stuff. But girlfriend and boyfriend felt... I don't know. Still too weak, I guess?"

"They're not strong words," Sadie agreed. "They’re usually pretty temporary.”

He twisted in his seat, eager to fall back into a friendly rhythm with her. “Yeah! Exactly! Saying Connie’s my girlfriend just doesn’t feel like it covers anything. We’re not really dating. We’re… we’re everything together. N-Not that I’m nothing without her, and we have our own lives, but I’m more than just a boyfriend.”

“Shep and I say we're partners. They could use girlfriend for me, but partner just feels deeper. It's different for everyone, you know?” She turned the music up a little before settling back in her seat, leaning it way back as sunlight poured through the roof against her skin. “You choose the words you like the most."

Steven giggled. "We still say girlfriend and boyfriend, but we use Jam Buds a lot."

There was a sleepy smile from the blond. "Awww. That's cute."

He leaned back in his own chair, feeling his nerves creep up on him. "I... proposed to Connie, when I was having a breakdown. And I feel like I could've ruined everything if she wasn't so great, you know? But I can only almost ruin everything so many times before she finally leaves, so I was wondering how you made it work and why it didn't work with Lars.”

He looked at her again, feeling nervous. Sessions with Dr. Morris had pointed out his need to meddle, his self-centered mindset making him think that he was the solution to everyone’s problems, that he knew how to set the world right. He knew he hadn’t exactly been fair about their breakup, even if it wasn’t a bad one. It had probably still hurt. But she’d accepted his apology a while ago, so he just gentled his request. “You don't have to tell me anything you don’t want to."

Sadie sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. "Gosh, me and Lars. What didn’t we do wrong? We did everything way too fast and never talked. We tried to keep everything a secret. We basically went from kissing to everything else in a week, and we weren't mature enough to deal with all those feelings."

"Oh." Steven shifted uncomfortably, remembering the arguments from the week before, the proposal, leaving Connie on the beach years ago. "So, that's what ruins a relationship? Going too fast and not talking."

"Hey. You and Connie aren't like that," Sadie said, reaching out to give his arm a friendly pat. "Don’t you argue sometimes?"

"Yeah," Steven confessed, worry creeping up his spine.

"Good! That's normal! Everyone disagrees." Sadie laughed and gave the same arm a harder pat, bordering on a slap. "You need to know how to argue with each other. Did you scream at each other for hours? Call each other a bunch of really mean names? Say stuff to hurt each other on purpose?"

Steven looked horrified. "No! Never!"

"Well, me and Lars did. All the time." Sadie sighed and shook her head. "It wasn't healthy, Steven. And, you know, in another world we could've worked it out. We could've done couple's counseling or something. But we both wanted to move on in our lives, so we did. Even without the road trip, when you and Connie wanted to move on you wanted to do it in ways that you'd still be together. A couple of mistakes won't ruin everything."

Steven crossed his arms as he remembered the months after the monster incident, the months after his downward spiral in general, and groaned. "After the proposal, I didn't do anything. Connie made all the steps. We were kinda dating, and she said we should make it official. She kissed me on the lips first, and she told me it was okay to do it back. I don't want her to have to always move everything forward. I want to help too!"

"Then you should.” Sadie shrugged.

"But the propos-"

"Steven," Sadie cut him off, warm and sweet as ever. "Do you know how many teenagers propose to each other in high school? Or how many kids say they're gonna marry each other when they grow up? It sounds silly and stupid, not the kind of thing that Connie thinks about all the time or something that hurt her."

"I guess." He sighed. "My therapist said the same thing. I'm making it into a bigger deal than it really is because I feel really, really stupid and embarrassed about it. I didn't shove it on her or anything and she accepted all my apologies."

She ruffled his hair. "And if she made all those moves, she's definitely not going anywhere. I think you can make a few moves on your own."

"Like?"

"Liiiiike..." Sadie hummed, crossing her arms and poking at her chin as she thought. "I mean, you guys are dating, right? Think of the concert as a date. Do some date stuff. Flirt. And if everything goes well, maybe you can kiss a little more than you usually do and see what happens."

Steven flushed. He’d had plenty of talks with Dad about what was normal and what wasn’t, that it was fine to have the occasional fantasy. Still, the thought of really kissing his girlfriend, with moving mouths and hands and all the other stuff, was enough to set his heart pounding with anxious excitement.

"Is it dumb that I'm seventeen and that feels like a really big deal?” he asked her. “TV makes it sound like everyone's already doing everything, and I can't even figure out how to, I don’t know, make out, I guess? It feels like that’s something other people do, not me."

"Everyone has their own pace, Steven," Sadie said gently. "You’ve got this. Don't make yourself go faster than you’re comfy with, okay? You and Connie know how to talk to each other. Keep that up and you'll be fine. I promise."

"Thanks, Sadie." He smiled. "You're still the best."

And then, in the silence that followed, a familiar song came on.  _ Mr. Universe _ . He expected the memory of it to slam into him, to fill him with awful guilt and disgust like it had the last few times he heard it. But, instead, he found his hand reaching for the knob, slowly turning up the volume. “This is the song my dad got my name from.”

Sadie grinned and dangled her arm out the window. “Yeah. Greg plays this all the time. He’s crazy about it.”

“Yeah.” Steven laughed. “He tried to make me listen to it a lot. Like,  _ a lot _ .”

“You’re kinda lucky about that. Not everyone gets a name that means so much.” She grinned, her voice going low and fried with disappointed humor. “I’m pretty sure mine just means someone milled flour. And there I was, holding up the Miller legacy in a doughnut shop. It was fate.”

“You escaped your fate,” he said in a teasing, whispered awe. “Every expectation your ancestors had for you, gone! Sadie Miller never touches wheat again! She plays music and travels the country as a cool rock star.”

She slid to the side, her head falling on his shoulder. It was so strange to be bigger than her now, when he’d looked up to her for so long. “And look at you. A whole conversation without gem stuff. That’s pretty cool, Steven. ”

He felt a smile flick over his face. “Yeah. I guess it is.”


	7. Shep

"So Connie Mah..." Shep said uncertainly, fumbling over the name they’d only heard once. That was fine, it was tricky. The car doors slammed as they stepped into the yellow grass park, long and flat with pretty green trees scattered throughout. Everything was yellow and flat here, endless rolling prairie fields.

Connie smiled at them after she took in the scenery. "Maheswaran. It's Tamil."

"Which island?"

She laughed. "Oh, gosh. I don't know. I'm such an American. I'm second generation. Both my parents were born here but my grandparents were from the Indian Archipelago in the sooouth eeeeeast?" She cringed at her own lack of knowledge. It wasn’t something that came up much. Finding out she was from the archipelago was usually enough to finish any questions, and her family heritage wasn’t something her parents had been overly concerned about. "Like I said, really American."

"That's cool. We don't all have deep roots." They shrugged and put their hands on their hips. "So, you got cool shit to show off, right?"

Connie looked around the park, humming. There was plenty she could do, but too much of it was unimpressive. Without her sword, pattern dances would be dull. She didn’t want to risk hurting Shep with martial arts and felt that her acrobatics were a dull way to start. She wished she had something to fight, a holoPearl to really prove herself against.

Her eyes landed on a lampost. That would have to do. "You've got Steven's number, right? Ah well. He's in my phone." She grinned as she dipped into her backpack and pulled out a skein of rope, looping it quickly around the post, grabbing an end in each hand. She could probably free climb it, but saving her strength for later was much more important. "If I get hurt or die, give Steven a ring. He'll set it straight."

Shep raised an eyebrow. "You carry rope?"

"For a long trip? Yeah. Everyone should. One of the most useful things you can have on you." She was surprised by the question at all before turning to the task at hand. She hugged the pole, using the tension and friction from the rope and the muscles in her legs to pull herself up to the top. It was quick and easy, compared to climbing Whi- well, compared to climbing a lot of things.

Shep stood beneath her, staring as Connie scooted out over the arm of the lampost and let her legs dangle. They looked impressed, and Connie felt a bit of giddiness and pride bubble up from her spot on high, which only grew as Shep remarked, "You're a real Adventure Scout, aren't you?"

"I'm a swordswoman," she said dramatically, rolling backward from where she sat on the jut out pole. She dangled from her knees as she looked at Shep upside down. Pearl had always found it charming and exciting, teasing her about humans having primate origins, but Shep looked more nervous than delighted. She tried to brighten the mood, "I nearly die ten times before breakfast every day, Mx. My middle name is danger."

They laughed. "Get down here before you snap your neck."

She mock-gasped, "Oh no!" before letting her legs slip. She relished in Shep's real gasp, but she'd been careful to push off at an angle. Connie twisted in the air, hitting and rolling and spreading the impact so the landing barely stung at all, just a brief pain throughout her shoulders, elbows, wrists and knees, then hopped up with a grin. "Ta da!"

"Girl!" Shep laughed, raising their hands to their head. "What is wrong with you? You gotta death wish or what?"

Connie faltered, Shep's tone somewhere between praising and scolding. She’d never shown off for her parents of course - they were always too skittish, but gems had always been impressed. The few times she’d showed her training to the kids at school they had thought it was cool too. She fumbled in unfamiliar territory. "I... I mean, I wasn't really in danger. I know how to land."

"How did you learn how to land?" They gasped, disbelieving.

Connie heard Pearl's voice calmly insisting, "Catch yourself" as she dueled against a hologram, her feet slipping on stone steps as she stumbled backwards. She remembered Amethyst's whip biting around her waist, yanking hard so Connie was whipped out of a tree onto the grass. She remembered Garnet’s hands, grabbing and throwing her out over the ocean - teaching her to land on water without the sting and building her strength as she swam back to shore.

She remembered Steven's finger tapping warm, fizzy magic against broken bones and pulled muscles and bloodied cuts as the two of them giggled and encouraged each other about what amazing fighters they were going to be someday. She remembered hours of her own practice, tripping herself and catching herself until she learned to do it right, and the near-permanent ache she’d had for years.

Connie shrugged. "It's just practice. I'm an honorary gem warrior. It's not as impressive as the stuff Steven can do."

"Yeah. Boy drools magic." Shep grinned. "But you seem pretty impressive to me. Got some other stuff to show off?"

Connie had always adored attention. Praise. She knew it was a flaw of hers, all too eager to please people for the chance that they'd say her name in that impressed way. _Wow, Connie!_ She moved across the park doing feat after feat of acrobatics or climbing or pattern dances, because Shep was so cool and so interesting and they respected her. Her muscles ached and she was slick with sweat by the time she was done, but she thought she'd managed to milk every drop over praise from her new friend and that made it worth it.

"You are incredible, little dude." Shep laughed. "Who on earth let you do all that? Are you an orphan or something? Raised by the Crystal Gems like Steven?"

Connie laughed back. "I mean, Mom and Dad barely know about any of it."

Shep's laughter died so suddenly Connie wondered if they had laughed at all. "What?"

She hopped up on a rail, walking carefully with her arms to the sides as she talked. The rounded edge was tricky to walk on, and one side was concrete. She began planning how to fall properly in case she slipped as she talked, "Yeah, they're not bad parents or anything. I just played up all the diplomacy stuff and left out most of the violence. It would've just freaked them out or they would've tried to stop me, so I just kept it on the down-low. And obviously I don't tell my teachers. Most kids thought I was making stuff up so I just kept the magic stuff quiet unless I had proof."

They raised an eyebrow. "Uh... Are you okay with that?"

"Okay with what?" Connie asked. “The kids thinking I made stuff up? I don’t know. I didn’t have any friends before so it’s not like it mattered. And when I finally made friends we didn’t talk about magic stuff, so it all worked out.”

"No, living two lives," Shep explained, walking alongside her. "Sounds like you made a Connie for gems and a Connie for humans."

"Steven's two people and he's okay with that," Connie said cheerfully. The hair on the back of her neck was prickling, her legs suddenly wanting to hit the ground and run off until they ached. She forced herself to keep walking, slow and steady, even as the tips of her fingers trembled. "And, besides, better to have a human life and a gem life than just a gem life. I don't know how Steven does it. He spent his whole childhood taking care of basically everyone around him, and he's-"

"I didn't ask about Steven." Shep crossed their arms. "I asked about you."

Connie shrugged, turning to look down at them with her own arms crossed. Mimicry, but she was stronger. She was taller. They had to look up at her. It was comforting and safe. "It was hard, but it's over now. I've got a human life, and sometimes there's gem stuff in it. So, even if there were two Connies before, there's only one now."

Shep grinned and held up their hands in a soothing gesture. "Hey, no need to get defensive. You're on a self-discovery road trip. I thought you might wanna hear some questions to guide you along the way."

She rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen them. She felt vertebrae shift and pop from the overly tense muscles surrounding them. Deep breath, little circle, winning smile. "I think you're supposed to ask stuff like what do you want to do with your life, are you gay, what's your gender..."

"So, what happened to the other Connie?" Shep asked.

_Shut up._

Connie slipped down to sit on the rail with a loud thrum, a line of bruising ache sinking into her thighs from the landing. She grinned wickedly as she kept everything light and airy, "Perished in a giant monster battle. Eaten alive."

"You _sure_ joke about dying a lot."

"Peak oil and late-stage capitalism are destroying the world. Everyone my age does." Connie shrugged, and her head swam with an awful anger. The words _shut up_ thudded in her mind as fast as her heartbeat, over and over as every new word from Shep crept under her skin. "Can't we talk about me finding girls hot or my future pronouns?"

Shep snorted. "Sounds like you don't need any questions on sexuality."

Connie happily sighed, swinging her legs. Good. Everything was back to easy territory, as gem stuff was shoved back to the past and the future could be focused on. Road trips. College. Dating. Gender. She smiled, and it was a real one. "Boys are pretty. Girls are pretty. Everything's great on that front."

Shep laughed. "So which one do you wanna be? Boy? Girl? Something in the middle?"

Connie hummed, cocking her head. "You know, I've never thought about it. I've been busy. I guess now’s the time to figure it out, right? How do you do it?" 

“Questions,” they said. "Do you feel like a boy?" 

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” she said eagerly, leaning forward. “That's easy. I'm definitely not a boy. One option crossed off the list!"

They chuckled. "Aright. So you know what it feels like to _not_ be something."

"Mmmhmm."

They gestured towards her. "You don't feel like a boy."

"No."

"You don't wanna be treated like a boy."

"No."

"You like boy and girl clothes?" 

"Yeah."

"Do you really like hearing any pronouns?"

"As Stevonnie, I really like being called they," Connie said cheerfully. "I don’t have to think about it when we’re Stevonnie at all. Everything’s just so right, you know? They’re so knowledgeable and confident." 

Shep grinned. "And as you?"

Connie hesitated. "I mean, I haven't really tried anything. I already said I haven’t thought about it. But I don't hate being called she or anything, and when I think about it I wouldn't even like being called he."

"Because you know you're not a boy," Shep said.

She nodded. "Exactly."

"But if you're not a boy, and you know you're not a boy, do you know whether you're a girl?" they asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because, sometimes, you only really know what you're not."

Connie hesitated, looking down at her hands. "I don't feel anything about being a boy. But I don't feel anything about being a girl either. Does that mean something?"

"If you don’t feel like a girl, you might wanna reconsider calling yourself one. But no pressure," Shep said with a grin. "It's just a good thing to know about yourself."

She frowned as her head started picking up speed again. Of course it did. The moment that awful rushing started it would linger for hours. She would try to throw herself into something useful, something productive, but now she was alone with Shep in a park and there was nothing to do. Connie looked around, trying to find a way to keep her moving as she talked, "Shouldn't something big happen? Sh-should I cut my hair? Or use a new pronoun? I guess I could throw out my clothes, but buying new ones on the road seems like it'll be really hard."

Shep laughed. "Woah there. You don't need to do anything! You don't need to pick a label, or make any big decisions. Gees. You're a little go-getter, aren't you?"

She laughed sheepishly as she looked up at the enby. "I don't know. It feels like I just realized something big about myself. Shouldn't I do something about it?"

"If you want to," Shep said, falling back to lean on the rail with her. "But you can take all the time you want. Gender's a journey. There's all kinds of stuff to find out about yourself. And you're sixteen! You've got plenty of time to mess around with it."

Connie sighed. "I've got a lot to do. I kinda just want to get it over with so I can go back to studying and enjoy the gap year."

"The self-discovery gap year?" they pointed out, and Connie tried not to choke on the sudden rush of stupidity and failure that came from the innocent comment. Her silence was enough of an answer as Shep continued, "Yeah, maybe you should get some practice in taking a breather. You're gonna be at the concert tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," Connie said with a giggle. "I'll enjoy it! I'm not a total buzzkill."

They grinned and clapped her shoulder. "Great! You're going to a concert with your boyfriend, on a road to self-discovery, talking about gender shit. That's what you should be doing now. Not studying."

"Yeah!” she said, and because studying art and writing was really just improving on her hobbies and hardly studying at all, she agreed, “That's what I'm doing!"

Shep raised an eyebrow. “Bet you twenty bucks if I ask Steven he’ll say that’s a fuckin’ lie."

"Witch,” Connie remarked, raising an eyebrow. “Stop being so psychic.”

Steven was better at people than Connie was. Steven could cleverly turn a conversation away from his problems, onto someone else’s, with a natural subtlety that Connie felt she could never mimic no matter how hard she tried. She wanted to be a politician someday. A diplomat. If she could be half as good as Steven, maybe she’d be decent at it.

But for now, Connie kept the conversation light and airy in her own clumsy way, dodged Shep’s questions as best she could, and when she met up with Steven - her boy happy and beaming and serene - lies fell from her lips uncontrollably as she softened and smoothed out the rougher edges where gem life Connie had slipped through.

Lying always made everything easy.


	8. The Concert

“You kids want to come in the back?” Greg asked with a wink.

Connie liked Mr. Universe. Really, he wasn’t as different from her parents as he thought. Intentionally or not, all of them had provided a sense of freedom. Priyanka and Doug, for all their rules, had been too busy to monitor - and so Connie had freedom with expectations. So long as the results were good, the process was up to her. Did she study for an hour? Of course she hadn’t. But if there was an A, her parents couldn’t tell the difference.

Greg was freedom without expectations. He expected no results, other than not dying and having a good time along the way. He had let Steven and Connie roam his music collection, pick apart his van and car wash, and offered friendly advice and wild stories with a smile. She knew why Steven was frustrated by that, but she thought it was just divine.

In the red brick and blank asphalt alley, lights cast from overhead, Steven looked oddly grown-up to her, even compared to his father. He carried an amp in one hand, fingerless gloves giving his skin protection it didn’t need as he moved equipment around. He already had a skill for it, having spent years setting up and tearing down concerts whenever they needed it.

“We can just go in the front,” Steven said, swinging the amp lazily at his side like a grocery bag.

Greg grinned. “If you go in the front they’ll hit you with a minor’s band. Go in the back and I can pass you guys some drinks without security taking it out of your hands.”

“Two years away is too much,” Connie said, rubbing her arm. She wasn’t a fan of crowds and less of a fan of being drunk in a strange place, in a loud place, as her first experience with alcohol. “I’ll just wait until I’m eighteen and legal.”

Steven hesitated, nervously asking, “Do you care if I…?”

“If you feel comfortable getting drunk your first time in a crowd, sure.” She grinned teasingly. “I’ve got your back.”

He cleared his throat, about to speak, but Greg clapped his shoulder and spoke before Steven could get a word in. “This guy? Nah! First time we met up on the road trip I let him get drunk in my apartment. I’d rather it happen somewhere I can keep an eye on it than have him get in trouble on his own.”

Greg gestured with his thumb, leaning forward to whisper in a conspiratorial way that made Connie giggle, “Besides, he’s got a gem constitution. I’d go broke trying to get him really drunk. You can only get him tipsy.”

“I don’t think someone with my powers should get drunk anyway,” Steven said, a forced casualness in his voice. “C’mon, Dad, we’ve gotta get everything set up.”

Connie did her best to assist, trying to calculate how many months early Steven had gotten drunk. It was probably less than ten, and technically drinking wasn’t illegal provided your parents were giving you the liquor. It wasn’t really breaking the law at all, though slipping around the rules like that was something her parents would never allow - only the occasional sip from one of their glasses at a nice dinner.

It bristled her a little, knowing that Steven craved rules and guidelines and had told Greg so, and yet here Mr. Universe was, finding ways to break the rules for both of them. But she supposed, with them out on a long road trip with no rules to speak of at all, that ship had long since sailed. She just noted it, thought of responses for if Steven vented about it later.

The club itself was fairly small - an open dance floor with a few booths around the edges, a couple of high-top tables. The floor was hardwood painted black, the walls old exposed brick, and the place quickly filled with bodies once the live bands started. Three of them tonight, with Shep and Sadie closing.

Steven had said he wanted to spend the night with her, but he so rarely saw his dad that she was quick to slip away as the two started a conversation. As the opener started a thumping electronic beat, Connie hopped up to the bar and grabbed an order of onion rings and clear soda, and carefully kept an eye on her drink as tension rose.

It wasn’t long before a man sat down beside her, mid-twenties, and shot her a wink far less comfortable than Mr. Universe’s. He was handsome, she knew - green eyes, auburn hair, cute freckles. Despite the softness to his face, something about his gaze made her stiffen. “You know, nothing goes better with onion rings than a nice lager. Want me to grab you one?”

Connie did her best not to squirm in her chair. He gave her a Kevin feeling - too close, too in her space, too interested. She focused on her food and said, “No thanks. I don’t drink. I’m just here for the music.”

He laughed. “Babe, lots of girls don’t like beer their first time. Let me get you something local, and I’ll-”

Sadie suddenly slipped in between them, snagging one of Connie’s onion rings and grinning at the guy. “Wow, really sweet of you to hang out with a sixteen-year-old when there’s a bunch of way older girls everywhere. Obviously older girls. Girls who really aren’t sixteen.”

Connie blinked as the man rushed off, muttering something about a missing wrist band, and looked at Sadie. “Uh, thank you. What was that about?”

“Just a scummy guy being scummy.” She dipped the ring in ranch dressing and bit into it with a good crunch and a happy moan. “Don’t worry about yelling at anyone you need to yell at, or shoving anyone you need to shove. We’ve got your back.”

“Oh, gees. I mean, he was just being friendly. I wouldn’t do anything like that,” Connie said, cringing at the thought of losing her temper on someone she’d never met. “I’d just lockdown and be boring or something.”

“He was hitting on you,” Sadie said, looking up at her with an encouraging smile. “It’s okay to get mad about it.”

But Connie got mad about things all the time. But she pulled her emotions straight and taut, tighter and tighter like tuning a violin until the string finally snapped. Every time she lost control it came out in a furious speech, barely biting back insults and curses as she tried to herd cats and make people see sense.

Sadie left, and Connie moved around the dance floor and found herself soon cornered by a woman who gave her Kevin vibes again. Was Connie gay? Was she from around here? Did she maybe wanna get somewhere private? Only for Greg to tap the woman on the shoulder. With the coldest voice she’d ever heard from the man, he said, “You know she’s sixteen. Get the fuck out of here.”

Frustration and humiliation built, tucked away, even as Greg apologized for the woman’s actions. But it hadn’t been the woman’s fault. Connie should have found a smarter way to tell her no. Connie should have been wearing a wristband. Connie needed to be better about figuring out when people were hitting on her, and she felt so stupid and childish every time she glanced through the smokey room and saw Steven with a drink in his hand.

He hopped up at a table with her, kissing her cheek as he set down a pink fruity drink. There was liquor on his breath, but no slur to his speech or uncoordinated movements as he smiled, talking loud to be heard over thumping electronica, “Are you having a good night?”

She smiled back. “Yeah! It’s great! Just like Beach City!”

Except it wasn’t. The concerts at Beach City were full of familiar people, and she knew who to avoid and who to talk to. Beach City’s venue was familiar, with no alcohol to be found and no one who cared if you brought your own snacks. The music didn’t thud and ricochet off the walls like in the small bar, slowly filling her head with pounding and wishing she had brought earplugs. There weren’t so many people.

So many people.

She didn’t know how Steven could stand it. How could it be alright to have so many humans around them? Any of them could have a weapon. Any of them could be looking to grab or touch in all the hot and heavy confusion. How could he not feel eyes on him and squirm at not knowing where they were coming from or what they wanted out of him?

“Do you like this stuff?” Connie asked, gesturing around. “You’ve been to a couple like this, right?”

Steven scooted a little closer, moving his mouth to her ear. It was a serious topic, but even still the occasional brushed of his lips against the sensitive skin sent a shiver down her spine as she struggled to keep herself focused and composed. “It’s one of the things therapy helped with. I went pink at my first one.

“It was a lot like this, but a rock show, so way noisier and people were shoving. Someone bumped into me and I bubbled myself, freaked out. I ran outside before I started growing or hurt anyone and had a total meltdown. I just cried and tried not to hurt anyone and I tried Garnet’s meditation thing, and that kind of worked.”

She typed on her phone and held it up, not wanting to shout into his ear to be heard, almost worried she’d start screaming if she did.  _ Then you called Dr. Morris and he helped? _

“Yeah. Emergency session. Managed to get in the next day.” Steven’s fingers brushed her hair behind her ear as he spoke - wired and antsy, the touch sent nerves firing so warmth bloomed in her chest from the simple intimacy. “We worked on some anxiety management stuff. We talked through intrusive thoughts about feeling like I’ve got to be ready to fight all the time. He taught me to get out of places when it gets to be way too much to take.”

_ If you ever need to get out, I’ll come with you, _ she typed quickly.  _ You’re more important than any stupid concert. _

“I’m good tonight.” He grinned sheepishly and held up his drink. “I’m not using it to cope. I know that’s a bad thing. But I am a lot more relaxed after a few of these. I won’t drink every time. Just, you know, with Dad here…”

_ Is it okay that he’s doing this?  _ Connie asked. Steven’s face wrinkled up with confusion, and she went back to typing.  _ I know that you wanted him to be a lot more involved in your life and that you wanted him to be more like a dad. Set more rules. _

“Uuuuh…” He laughed and swept a hand through his hair, lowering his head. “I don’t know. I guess? It’d be really nice if he did. But people don’t change overnight, you know? Loads of parents let their kids drink before eighteen, so that’s not too big of a deal? And he’s really, really there for me now. We talk about everything.”

She smiled, pecking her lips against his cheek. He grinned and surprised her, catching her on the lips with a firm kiss just after hers. His hands cradled her cheeks, big and warm and gentle with her. She was always a little awed that hands that could lift a building could be so sweet.

She shoved her phone in her pocket, choosing to shout this one instead. “You wanna finish that and dance? I really like the second act.”

“Yeah! Hold on!” His drink was nearly empty, maybe a quarter left at the bottom, and he threw his head back to chug it all down. Totally unaffected, as calm as if he’d had a glass of water, Connie’s magical boyfriend took her hand and dragged her out to the dance floor.

Everything was right when she danced with Steven. She had gone to a few school dances, and they had been nice! She enjoyed herself. She didn’t need Steven to have a good time, and that was important to her. Connie Maheswaran could cope without her boyfriend and be a lovely, independent young woman.

But Connie had a much, much better time when he was around. That was a good thing too, she figured. If you didn’t have a better time when your best friend was around, why would they be your best friend at all? And if there was anywhere Steven was going to shine as a friend, it was anything involving music.

Confidence with him came easy. She got it from the way he talked, the way he moved, the way he looked at her like she was the world. Steven could make anyone feel beautiful, and him twirling her and bouncing with her to the upbeat electric music was enough to have her laughing and shrieking with delight.

And then there was a hand, and everything was a blur.

It would have been just fine if the hand was coming for her. Connie had dealt with strange people all night, as frustrating as they were. She’d dealt with them in high school too. But the hand that reached wasn’t searching for her skin. It was moving out towards Steven’s belly.

Later, rationally, she would know that the hand was someone who was drunk or high or some combination of the two. The man or woman or something in-between (she hadn’t even noticed, honestly) had seen Steven’s gem glowing, something shiny and exciting in the dim room, and with inhibitions lowered they were going to touch it. They shouldn’t have touched it, no matter what, but they weren’t going to grab. They weren’t going to tug.

Connie was not rational in the moment, though. How could she be, when Steven gasped and went pink from head to toe? How could she be, when she saw terror in his eyes from the hand reaching towards that important part of him? How could she be, when once long black nails had ripped Steven apart, and she had vowed never, ever again? It was her job to protect Steven.

So many things happened so fast.

Her hand seized the wrist and her body twisted, bracing her back and upper arm along the torso. She bent, using momentum and strength to flip the person down, slam them into the floor with a force that likely would have knocked the wind out of them. And that was fine, because they were down, and she should have stopped right there.

But they had gone for Steven’s gem, and the only thing Connie could think in the heat of it all that someone had tried to kill him again. Human or gem, it didn’t matter. Someone had made a go for the gem on Steven’s belly, and she was going to step on their neck to hold them steady. She was going to get them restrained.

Instead of her foot meeting skin, it met the inside of a bubble. She didn’t even have time to process the shock before it was gone, Steven’s hand in hers, his voice hot in her ear, “We need to go. I need to go.”

All she ever cared about was helping him. The person on the floor was irrelevant. She held his hand firmly and pulled him towards the exit she had carefully mapped out before the night had even begun, pulling him into the alleyway where he’d unloaded the van while his skin buzzed with magic.

“What do you need?” she asked, her hands on his shoulders.

“Space,” he said, taking deep breaths. “Thank you, but space.”

Connie quickly took several steps back, watching as he bent over, hands on his knees. He looked around the alley, breathing deep, and quietly mumbled to himself about the things he saw. She swallowed, her stance wide and ready for anything as Steven described every detail on Greg’s van, the pink fading, the tension easing.

Eventually, he stood up, sweaty but managing a smile. “So, uh, therapy. Great stuff, it turns out. I can actually kind of deal with that now.”

She held out her hand, just in case he was ready to take it. And he was, the warm palm gently sliding into hers. Connie beamed as he stepped close, and she kissed his salty forehead with all the love she could manage. “I’m so proud of you, Steven.”

“I’d hug you but I’m all sweaty,” he said with a giggle.

She flung her arms around him and held him tight, tears stinging her eyes. “Who cares? Stars, Steven, I’m  _ so _ proud of you. You’re doing so much better. You got out of there. You gave me a boundary…”

He hugged her back, and the two of them clung to each other fiercely under the streetlight. She couldn’t tell if it was sweat or tears on her shirt, but it didn’t matter. She held him until he let her go, and she followed happily behind him and he plugged his phone into the van’s aux, playing some slow R&B to counter the thudding from inside.

“I don’t wanna go back in,” Steven said, looking back to her. “But I still wanna dance. Do you think we could do it out here? I-If you don’t, you can go back in. I don’t wanna ruin your whole night or anything.”

“How could a night with you be anything but perfect?” she asked, and grinned as a proper, teenage-romance kind of pink filled his cheeks. She pinched one. “Don’t get all flustered with  _ me _ , Universe. You’re the one putting on flirty music.”

He took her hand and twirled her, so that when she stopped her face was heart-poundingly close to his. Steven grinned, still red despite the easy flirt in his voice. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You know, this playlist is called  _ A Fun Friendly Night with My Platonic Bestie. _ ”

Connie giggled, letting him lead. They stepped close, shuffling slow to the music, and she was surprised to find that this somehow wasn’t a Stevonnie moment. She would fuse right now, she was sure she would, but the lack of comforting light meant that Steven didn’t want to. Two bodies swayed quietly in the alley, and she wondered if, maybe, it was just that Steven wasn’t up to fusing after his attack.

But as his hand slipped to the back of her neck, pleasantly warm and no longer clammy, it struck her that there might have been another reason they weren’t fusing. His eyes flicked down to her lips, oddly intense for something they had done so many times before. He leaned in, hesitated, then closed the distance between them.

They'd kissed plenty, and she liked it a lot. It was a little strange, but oddly comforting to have their lips press together, all warm and soft. And she would brace her hands on his chest and he'd put his hands on her shoulders and it'd be really nice and lingering, like another step above a hug.

Steven's hands slid slowly down over her arms, down to rest on her waist, and she was surprised that such a simple motion sent an ache to her chest, the same warmth from him whispering in her ear. His hands were so big. So heavy. He'd hugged her countless times before, but it was different while they kissed.

It was different as he pressed a little harder against her, so she was reminded just how big and broad he was, how much larger, even though they were the same height. His mouth pressed harder, firmer, which they had done maybe once or twice, and she could smell fruit and liquor, taste it a little, which was an exciting bit of rule-breaking.

His mouth moved against hers. Connie wasn't sure if it was the pressure of where skin met skin or if it was instinct, but her own lips parted. His fingers tightened on her waist, and his tongue suddenly flicked into her mouth, and everything was scorching heat. Her body was responding, heart racing, stomach clenching, warmth spreading from her chest, and she gasped from the shock of it.

Steven was off her immediately, a few steps back, every touch gone as his eyes went wide. "I'm so sorry! I don't know what... I... Connie, I'm sorry."

"No! It's okay! I'm not mad!" she said frantically.

How could she be? She was wanting. How on earth was she suddenly wanting? Everything was chaste and soft. It wasn't like the books she'd read, the fanfiction online. They weren't grabbing and pawing and desperate. They were gentle. Sweet. Easy. They would move on slowly, when everything was ready. That was how their relationship worked.

Which was why she couldn't suddenly be aching for everything at once. She couldn't be thinking about kissing him again, with more tongue and more hands. She couldn’t be desperate to shove him against the van, to be shoved up against the dirty brick. She was the responsible one. She was level headed. They were on a road trip alone and they absolutely couldn't do anything stupid.

Connie swallowed, her eyes meeting his. They were so dark, so focused. Her toes curled in her shoes at another rush of heat. "We gotta keep it slow, that's all. You didn't do anything wrong. We just gotta go slow."

He smiled, relieved. "Good. I'll go slow."

She licked her lips, the feel of his hands on her waist still lingering. He was fine. He didn't mind. He wasn’t full of tension and need like she was. There was something wrong with all her wanting. Her mind flashed to her mother, to a mistaken pregnancy and limited choices, and a chill ran down her spine. The same mistakes ran in the family. She had to be careful.

Somehow, Connie would find a way to handle all the making out and heat like she did everything else. She took care of Steven. She stopped bad guys and yelled at parents and cared for him when he was falling apart. He needed her, and she had promised to be there for him. She could manage this too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since this one was longer, I'm gonna skip updating tomorrow. I might just start updating every other day now that it's a little more chill in the fandom, lol.


	9. Zoo Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to fluff town. Steven and Connie spend a day at the zoo.
> 
> Amazing art by [Badartbysomeguy!](https://badartbysomeguy.tumblr.com/)

Steven spent too much of his time wildly in love with his Jam Bud.

Every hotel and motel was the same, really. The carpets were a dark patterned grey to hide the stains, always a contrast to the bright white socks Connie padded around in (she said the floors were too dirty to go barefoot). There would be a TV, usually in a cabinet, with a neutral-colored wood, which he would watch while Connie studied and wrote and drew at the same colored desk.

Or he'd pretend to watch. Realistically, Steven spent a lot of time pining as he glanced at her back. Having Connie was easing some of the loneliness, but there was still a desperate longing for touch. He had thought that puberty had finally come for him, but long talks with Dr. Morris and his own internet research had made him realize it was more about being touch starved.

Years of constant physical attention had suddenly vanished and left a hole behind. No headpats. No being carried. No hugs and poking tickles or cuddling on the couch. It was a terrible loneliness, and he desperately wanted to scoop Connie up from her chair whenever she studied and snuggle her close on his bed. She could keep reading, even. He just longed for long afternoons of her head on his chest, TV playing something stupid, as he finally soothed that missing part of him.

Steven slid into his own bed every night, and though he was used to sleeping alone, he wished that Connie would cuddle behind him again, clinging to him the way she clung to her rabbit, so he could fall asleep wrapped up in warmth and softness. But Dr. Maheswaran had said no and Connie was mostly following that rule, even though it was a stupid one. A stupid one that he hated.

He woke up first and golden orange sunlight slipped through the curtains, falling across Connie's bed like a second blanket. He stared (long enough to know it was probably weird) at the way the sun made her skin look softer and warmer. He memorized every feature on her face, things he so rarely got to admire. In the right lighting, he could barely make out freckles on her face, tiny, barely-there spots over her cheeks and nose that became just a bit more prominent each year, or after a long day in the sun. Every line of her face was soft and round like his own, with gentle cheekbones and chin.

And then she buried her face with a little whine into the floppy head of the rabbit, her hand fumbling for the covers and tugging them over her head as sun forced her awake. Steven laughed. "It's almost ten. You should probably get up."

"We're in Cornhusker State," Connie muttered. "Why don't we just die instead?"

"I mean, we could," he teased lightly. "But we are in Omaha. And I'm preeeetty sure there was some kind of big all-day eve-"

The blanket whipped down, Connie sitting up bright and eager in bed. "Henry Doorly Zoo and Aquarium. It's zoo day!"

He grinned. "Oh yeah. Was that something you wanted to do?"

She was already out of bed, grabbing clothes and shower stuff before vanishing into the bathroom without another word. Steven followed her lead, tugging on his own clothes in the now empty room. One of his black star shirts, which he'd swap out the second he bought a new one at the zoo, jeans, and his always-there jacket. He looked down at himself, wondering for a bit if he should try something new, then sighed. He had enough self-discovery to deal with without adding outfits to the list. Later.

Connie might have been the happiest he'd seen her yet, bubbly and practically babbling about the Henry Doorly Zoo. He let her drive, laughing as she talked the whole drive there. Did he know about the Desert Dome? The Lied Jungle? Was there anything he really wanted to see, because she had a day plan of course but they could go there first. She'd make sure they had the best day and...

"Do you mind if I try to draw?" Connie asked, and, unlike him, she didn't take her eyes from the road. "I brought some sketchbooks in my daypack, but drawing takes a while even if you just do sketches. I don't want to bore you."

He laughed, nothing but giddiness at the idea that Connie would finally spend a day enjoying herself with him without studying or work in the way. They were doing something she loved, that she wanted, and it was so nice to give back to her for once. "No way! That sounds fun. I can do some sketches too. Or maybe cartoons? I'll do something fun."

She practically bounced in her seat. "Perfect. This is going to be amazing!"

* * *

They went to the gift shop first, and Steven got himself a shirt with a lion on it - because he was a simple boy with simple loves. He changed quickly, with a few sighing comments from Connie about how envious she was that he could change shirts in public, before they went about exploring along Connie’s well-planned route.

The elephant exhibit had indoor and outdoor sections, and the inside trapped the smell of animal musk, which Steven didn’t mind. Lion often smelled musky, and it was something he actually thought smelled kind of homey. Connie didn’t seem to mind either, which made sense. She had Lion even more than he did nowadays.

Connie looked eagerly over the railing, saying, “These are African elephants - you can tell from the larger ears, and the reason why their ears are so big is because they pump their blood into them, right? And then they flap them, and the surface area cools the blood really quickly. It’s such an amazing way to lower body temperature.”

He stared at her in awe, soaking up every drop of knowledge she gave him, and then looked to the little sign explaining the exhibit. He read all of that too, eager for everything he could learn, and giggled at what he discovered. “They drop hay and hide treats in cubbies so they can hunt for food. That’s so cute.”

“That’s adorable!” she agreed, pushing up against him to read the same sign he was. He felt himself flush at the casual way her body pressed to his, the curve of her, the kiss from the night at the concert just a couple days ago still fresh in his mind. She had gasped, but she hadn’t said no, had she? Hadn’t said stop?

He was thinking of it as a date, though he wasn’t sure if she was. They went on a lot of things that could be dates without ever saying the word. Still, he remembered Sadie’s advice and grinned at her, trying his best at flirtatious. “Should I climb in there and give one a boost towards the hay?”

She gasped, “No!” then giggled as she saw his face, figured out the tease. His heart warmed at her realization, the loving way she looked back at him, the sweetness and giddiness in her voice. “Oh, gosh. Steven! I nearly had a heart attack!”

“You think I can’t do it?” he said. “I can lift an elephant with my little finger. I can _float_ an elephant.”

“Oh my gosh. You’re such a goof.” She grabbed his hands and dragged him along to their next location, loving and affectionate and sweet, and he followed along behind her like the lovesick puppy he was.

* * *

They stood, rapt against the glass and cooing at the sight of a mother tiger lazily grooming her cub. They were sure to step aside, letting families and kids take their turns ogling the adorable sight through the one-way glass, while an educator spoke behind them about the wondrous exhibit before them.

“Good _morn_ ing, Omaha! Time to bring out the tiger!” There was an audible groan from no less than three parents.

“Specifically, the _Amur_ tiger, once known as the _Siberian_ tiger, is one of the largest big cats in the _world,_ ” he said, voice filled with a template kind of eagerness and cheeriness which remained undeterred by nobody enjoying his horrible joke. “Once hunted _near_ ly to extinction, our _beautiful_ animals are finally making a comeback with no small thanks to breeding programs like this one. Sasha and her _baby_ Romero are…”

Steven rested his head on her shoulder, his arms falling around her waist. It was such a comfy spot to be in, a way to hold her that had only really become possible in the past couple years, and he relished in their matching heights as he whispered in her ear. “Okay, I’ve only been to, like, five zoos, but have you noticed they all have that same voice? What is that voice?”

She giggled and whispered back, “It’s the child educator voice.”

“What?” he blinked.

“The way people talk to kids when they come into a school to teach them.” She dropped into the same pattern, and he delighted at the mimic as she said, “Alright, let’s learn about _isosceles triangles_ . That’s a triangle where _two sides_ are the _saaaame_ length and _oooone_ side is _longer_ or _shorter_.”

He laughed, squeezing her tight. “Why do people talk to kids like that?”’

Connie shrugged. “I think it’s because it keeps their attention? Your voice makes everything sound exciting. I know Pearl did it a lot. I think she figured out it makes little kid brains focus better.”

“Didn’t work on me,” he said cheerfully. “I barely listened.”

“I did,” she said, and there was an odd heaviness to her voice he couldn’t place. “I listened to everything Pearl told us.”

He kissed her cheek, and they went back to exploring.

* * *

There was a peacock wandering the zoo. Several of them. Steven would have thought it was normal wildlife, had it not been for people eagerly snapping pictures with their phone and gushing about how exciting it was to see a peacock up close. Connie had been explaining that they were peafowl as a species, with people referring to peacocks in the same way they referred to cattle as cows.

But he had cut her off when the peacock had approached her, instinctually stepping between her and the curious bird, and Connie had been unable to speak from her sudden giggles at his very uncertain attitude towards the roaming beast.

“What’s it doing here? Is it supposed to be out of its cage?” Steven asked suspiciously. He wasn’t frightened, really. If he could take an elephant he could take a bird, but there was something in the animal’s beady little eyes that he just couldn’t bring himself to trust.

“Yeah, Steven, it’s-”

The peacock was apparently excited about something, because he suddenly opened his tail with a flourish - a thousand eyes of blue on a canvas of green, flashes of gold only adding to the splendor. Many people around ooh’d with delight, but Connie could only double over with laughter as Steven scowled and summoned his shield.

“I don’t like him.”

* * *

The Desert Dome was just plain cool. Connie had plopped down on the sidewalk and tugged out her sketchbook to try her hand at architecture drawing, and Steven was just happy to admire the building and the breeze. It towered above them, clear glass broken with long rods of steel so the dome was broken into dozens of triangles curving to the top.

He hid a giggle as her flipping pages in the sketchbook get more aggressive. Apparently, drawing so many perfect triangles connecting into a dome wasn’t easy. Still, Steven was happy to watch the fierce determination in her eyes as she struggled to draw the thing as long as she needed, and was happy to be hand in hand with her when she finally finished.

They paced the dome, and he listened to Connie tell him about every animal and plant she knew. Sometimes the things she said appeared on the little signs, and he admired her all the more for being as knowledgeable as the very official words from the keepers. Of course, there were times that he didn’t need her knowledge.

“Baby deer,” he whispered in awe. The little brown deer, small enough to be carried in his arms, stared at him from his spot on the rocks. Steven felt his chest swelling up like it always did when he saw something too cute to take, his eyes riveted to the tiny thing.

“Oh! It’s a Klipspringer!” Connie said cheerfully. “That’s actually as big as they ever get! They-”

He covered his mouth, cuteness overtaking him as he leaned on the rail. The klipspringer skittered across the rock, fast and quick and unbearably adorable with his speedy little movements. Every little tap of his hooves filled Steven’s heart a little more. “They walk on tiptoes like little ballerinas. Their little standy-uppy hooves.”

“It’s so they can walk on rocks.” She grinned at him, and darted forward to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’m gonna be quiet for a minute and let you enjoy this.”

He could feel his throat closing up at his stared, barely whispering, “Little horns.” Steven was seventeen, and very mature, and yes he would get emotional over a tiny deer and he’d cry when he needed to, but he didn’t need to cry about the klipspringer and he _wouldn’t_.

And then a little klipspringer baby rushed across the rocks and kicked up its tiny little hooves, and his eyes burned and blurred from salty tears. Connie crooned, throwing her arm around his shoulder as he let the drops fall and enjoyed the sights.

* * *

Despite Steven’s pleading, there was no way to convince Connie to float around the zoo. She had thrown a lot of terrible arguments his way, like reminding him that his floating was fairly limited in terms of direction, and that he was trying to live a more human life, and that they didn’t want to make a scene. He hated everything she said, and tried his hardest to ignore every word of it.

They went on the Skyfari instead. It was a slow little ski lift that made a little journey over exhibits, and he gleefully admired some of the animals they had seen from the ground. Somehow, it was more exciting to ride on the snail-paced thrumming machine instead of floating around on his own, though it probably helped that Steven could eagerly lean out and barely hang onto his seat knowing that falling wouldn’t hurt him a bit.

“I love lions,” Steven sighed, eagerly looking down from the sky tram at the lions below. They were so cute from up here, like fluffy little kittens. Not that lions weren’t fluffy kittens up close, too. He had plenty of experience that proved that true. “It’s so cool to see not pink lions. Do you wanna get a close-”

His girlfriend narrowed her eyes. “Do not jump from the skyfari.”

“Connie, I can floa-”

“ _Do not jump from the skyfari.”_

He pouted, looking back at her. “Why not? I can float whenever I want!”

“Yes, Steven. You can stay in the air as long as you want. But, unless you turn pink, you can’t _fly_ . You can’t _change direction_ in the air,” she said patiently, arms crossed over her chest as she scolded. “So, at some point, you’re going to have to slowly float down to the literal lion’s den.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can take a lion.”

She laughed, her composure and sternness broken. Connie reached out to shake him lightly by the shoulders. “ _Do not jump from the skyfari!_ ”

* * *

Steven could not explain his dearest Jam Bud’s taste in animals. She loved all of them dearly, but had a special place in her heart for predators. Big cats, bears, wolves and foxes - she could seemingly talk endlessly about different hunting strategies and the ways they lived their lives. Connie was a warrior, and she admired physical power and clever strategy.

But, also, she really, really loved prairie dogs. A lot.

If Steven had gotten choked up to tears at the klipspringer, there was a decent chance that Connie would do something equally embarrassing with the prairie dogs. And, even better, there appeared to be some kind of prairie dog hill. He had chatted with a very nice woman about it. They were native to the area, and the zoo allowed them to roam freely, living their little prairie dog lives, eating hot dogs and food from your hands. You could even pet them.

“We should skip the prairie dogs,” Connie said, but Steven’s hand wrapped tight in hers, dragging her towards the open area.

“Nope. We’re definitely seeing the prairie dogs.”

“Steven, _please_ ,” she squeaked, giggling. Her hand playfully pawed and pushed at his as he made his way towards a little food court, where he would buy whatever food he needed to watch her interact with her favorite animal.

“They’re not afraid of humans at all,” he said as they got in line. “They’ll eat popcorn right out of your hand.”

“Oh gosh.” Her hand covered her face, her _blushing_ face, and he pulled it down so he could enjoy every second of it.

“They climb into strollers.” Connie groaned and he tugged her close, catching her lips in a soft kiss. “You love it, and it’s just me. I cried over cute stuff so you don’t have to be embarrassed. We’re gonna go sit on Prairie Dog Hill, and I’m gonna listen to you ramble and watch you draw for as long as you want.”

“Aren’t you gonna get bored?” she insisted.

He shook his head. “With you? Never.”

Steven was fairly sure her voice was pitched an octave higher for the _entire_ time they were surrounded by the rodents. Their little beige, McNugget bodies waddled and scampered all around, and Connie’s smile never faltered for a second as she fed piece after piece of popcorn to members of the coterie, all of them taking turns nibbling at the kernels.

Did he know that prairie dogs had the most complex language outside of human speech? He didn’t, and he laid on his belly and stared up at her with rapt awe as she told him all about their little rat language and how they used it to protect themselves and warn against danger - and seemed to even have adjectives like colors or size.

He watched as she sketched and told him about how the little cuties were full of plague, apparently. The Black Death that had once ripped through Europe (she taught him about how the Black Death ripped through Europe), was currently tearing through prairie dog populations as well, which was a tragedy, but not as big as a tragedy as the fact that prairie dogs had their range reduced by ninety-five percent and, gosh, couldn’t somebody do something?

He looked at her, adoring and endlessly loving, as Connie talked about making a difference in the world, about changes that needed to be made and the way the future could look if the right people stepped up and made a difference. Driven and brilliant and beautiful in the afternoon sun, he loved her with everything he had.

Connie looked down at him. “I know I can make a difference. I know I can fix stuff. I mean, we saved a bunch of worlds together, didn’t we? What’s one more?”

“Isn’t saving a bunch of worlds enough?” He laughed, propping his head on his hand.

Her fingers scratched gently on a prairie dog’s head. “If someone’s left unsaved, you’ve got to help them, don’t you? You can’t just stand by. Even if it’s just some sweet, adorable prairie dogs. When everyone else is sitting down, someone has to do the right thing.”

He leaned forward, gently kissing the back of her hand. “I guess so,” he agreed, and tried to shake off a small sense of wrongness creeping in on their perfect moment.

* * *

The polar bear exhibit was pretty famous, and Steven could see why. You could watch the polar bears roam along the rocks on the back. You could watch them dive into green, briny water. You could watch them swim beneath, and watch them come right up to the glass. Steven was a big boy, surrounded by large gems, and it wasn’t often that a big thing made his brain flicker with thoughts of danger.

For all his gem half made him who he was, it couldn’t really get over the instinctual, primal fear of his monkey brain insisting that a polar bear was a force to be reckoned with, and he gawked at the muscular, massive beast as it floated in the water. He stared at big, black toe beans surrounded by a nest of white fur and ending in long, dark claws.

“Polar bears have a two percent success rate for their hunts,” Connie said, sitting on the ground as her arm made quick, wide strokes across her page. Steven was doing his best to follow suit in one of the extra books she had brought along, but quickly gave up on any realism and began drawing teddy bear styled doodles.

Steven frowned, sure he was getting the math wrong. He turned the problem over in his head a few times, struggling, and finally gave up and asked her to explain. “That’s not… two out of every one hundred times they go out to hunt they get food?”

She nodded. “One out of every fifty. Almost every single time a polar bear goes out to catch food, it fails.”

"But they're so big!" Steven said, eyes going round. "Can't they kill whatever they want? Just… just look at them! They could kill anything!"

"They have to catch them. They can't get the seals in the water, so they have to sneak up and kill them on the ice," Connie explained. She stopped drawing, looking up at him with a little shrug. "Surviving is hard in the arctic. Hunting’s really hard, and they mess up all the time. Sometimes, it doesn't matter how much power an animal has or how strong it is. Guess what the best hunter in the world is?”

“Wolves,” he said eagerly. “Because of all the friends.”

She giggled. “They’re really successful, and African wild dogs are probably the best mammalian hunters for the whole friendship thing. But the most successful hunter in the world is actually the dragonfly."

He stared at her, sure his eyes were shining with awe. "I didn't even know they were hunters."

"They're really smart and agile.” She doodled a tiny sketch of a dragonfly in the corner of her page. "They figure out where their prey is going to go and catch it almost every time. The two sets of wings here? They actually have separate muscles for them, so they can turn and pivot and do all kinds of acrobatics. Ninety five out of one hundred times."

He grinned. "So. It's better to be a dragonfly than a polar bear."

"Well, I don't know about that. You can't swat a polar bear. There are some pretty big upsides to being a strong, tanky beast. The dragonfly has to be that successful and clever and agile, or else it wouldn’t survive at all.” She dropped her eyes, frowning a little. “The polar bear gets to make lots of mistakes and everything still turns out alright."

"I don’t know.” He winked and kissed her temple, trying to bring the mood back around as she started to worry. “Still sounds like there are pretty big upsides to being a small, clever bug."

Her eyes widened. "Are you calling me a bug?"

"I didn't say that."

"And why small?" she demanded. "You could have used fast or nimble or... Or something! So many way better adjectives!"

"I'm talking about dragonflies," he said innocently, trying not to smile as she got wound up.

"The mask has been dropped, Steven!" she insisted. "The metaphor isn't subtle!"

“You’re not a bug, Connie. And you’re allowed to make lots of mistakes. You’re a human, you know? Humans get to mess up all the time and they get to be better people. That’s what Dr. Morris says, anyway.” He laughed, stopping her rant before it started with a kiss. She kissed him back, smiling back as he whispered against her lips, "Finish your drawing." 

* * *

Steven knew a lot about the whole birds and the bees thing. He knew about sex. He knew about diseases and contraceptives and all the stuff a seventeen-year-old should know. His dad had never been that shy about it, and Steven couldn’t really complain about anything Greg did in that area either. Dad had told him everything, and given him advice and some rules, and even gave him tips.

So he knew that his fantasies of whisking Connie away on Lion or a warp, finding somewhere quiet, and doing stuff with all different amounts of clothes on, were really normal for someone his age. He also knew that he wasn’t really ready for most of it, and that doing all that kind of stuff came with all kinds of risks and problems.

Even Sadie had said go slow, and he would go slow. But he was seventeen, and he had a girlfriend, and they were alone a lot, and he had only ever tried to put his tongue in her mouth one time. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her anywhere but the cheek and hand and a little peck on the lips. He was pretty sure it would count as going slow if they did a little more than that.

As it started getting dusky, as things started getting hard to see, Steven felt an entire day of staring at his girlfriend and feeling her body against his wear on his sense of self-control, and with a few teases and whispers, he snuck her off a path, into a thicket of trees where no one would spot them in the low light, and asked her, "Do you wanna make out?"

Connie's eyes went wide. "What?"

He laughed nervously, dropping her hand and taking a step back. "We don't have to! There's no pressure or anything. But it's private here, and I could even bubble if you were worried about someone hearing us.”

Steven suddenly realized that he hadn’t asked her before tugging her out to a secluded spot, surrounded by trees, much like a serial killer would. Panic spiked as he rushed onward to soothe any worries she might have had about him having a sudden desire for murder. “O-or we could do it back at the hotel, or not at all! I just thought it'd be fun. You know." He touched his index fingers together with a blush as Connie’s face went from shocked to amused. "Normal teen date stuff, I guess."

"I'm kind of surprised." She smiled and brushed her hair back. "After everything that happened, I kinda thought I'd make all the moves."

He shook his head. "You shouldn't have to."

"It's not a big deal," she said with a grin, a kind of overconfident shrug and swagger coming over her. "I don't mind setting the pace. You know I love scheduling, and making plans, and being in control... makes more sense for me to do it, right?"

"It is a big deal!" he said fiercely, fists clenched at his side. She didn’t mean it that way, but every word cut. Wasn’t he confident at times? Wasn’t he assertive? Did she really think that he was that timid, that nervous, that he’d never manage to make a move on his own? Could she really think that he’d _want_ her to have to do all the work, that he’d let their relationship be so one-sided when it was still the thing he wanted most in the world?

Steven took a deep breath. "Connie, I... I know that with everything that happened, I put a lot on you with the romance stuff. I know I made a mess of a bunch of it. But I've been working hard in therapy, and I've talked to a lot of people, and I want to do better. I want to show you that I can be good at this romance stuff, and you don't have to do everything!"

"I already think you're great at romance stuff," she said. Her hands slid over his, gently undoing his fists to slide her hands into them. "Steven, I’m always gonna be here to take care of you. It's okay to let me do it."

"I don't want to," he insisted, stepping closer, and trying not to feel judged or hurt by shock and surprise returning to her face. "I _like_ being romantic. I like doing this. You’re not my whole future. I don’t want to tag along on whatever you do. But I do always want to be with you, and I can’t imagine a future you’re not a part of, that we’re not, you know, romantic in.”

He let his forehead rest against hers as he mumbled, “I know that you're not experienced either. I’m your first everything and you’re my first everything. We're both new this time. So let me try, please. Whenever you're ready."

"Just kissing?" she asked, an odd tone to her voice, strained and nervous. "We're in public, so it's obviously got to be just kissing."

He laughed, looking at her oddly in the dusty light. "Of course it's just kissing! We’re just getting used to all of this. I’m gonna go really slow. I promise."

She looked relieved and nodded. "Okay. Let's kiss. We'll both hold back and go slow."

Greg hadn't taught him a lot about how to live in the human world, but he did teach him a lot about kissing. His dad had said that it was all about buildup. Romance. Anticipation. He had told Steven that, whenever he and Connie got around to kissing, he should go really slow, and probably even _too_ slow, since he was gonna want to move fast. Steven wasn't sure how true that was, because he was so excited and nervous he was already shaking a little, but he did his best to follow that advice.

He stepped close, close enough to feel the warmth of her body without touching. It had been so much easier last time, with his brain just a touch fuzzy from alcohol. Now he was too aware of his body, his breath catching as his fingers skimmed over the wonderfully soft skin of her cheek, to the nape of her neck where her hairline ended. 

He usually put his hand on her shoulder, and she put hers on his chest, because that was a very platonic kind of touching. Less intimate. Last time, he'd run his hands over her arms, still too nervous to move down the side of her body, and this time was no different. He left his hand fall to her waist without touching anywhere else. 

She smiled up at him, and he thought Connie looked a little nervous too. There was hesitation before her hands came to rest on his chest, even though she’d put them there plenty before. Good. He wasn't alone. Both confused. Both new. It was nice to have a level playing field for once.

He moved forward to ghost his lips over hers, and smiled at the feel of her moving forward to follow his head when he pulled back. His lips came back right away, his heart beating eagerly from her wanting. She was so soft, her _mouth_ was so soft and smooth and warm. He'd had moments before where the feel of her lips had made his stomach clench and he had longed for more, but nerves and timidity had made him end it.

But he had permission today. He wanted to be good at this. When nothing else made sense, he still knew he wanted romance in his life. Intimacy. Touch. It wasn’t everything, but it was important, and that was okay. So he pushed his mouth against hers, pushed his body to hers, and held her in place with his hands.

She gasped, and this time all it did was send a thrilling ache into his trembling arms. Slow, he was definitely going slow, and it was slow to run his tongue along her lower lip. He whimpered as she followed him, her own tongue warm and wet and he knew it was weird, but he had wanted it so badly for so long.

He knew it was silly but he could barely stop himself from floating at the joy that he was frenching Connie Maheswaran. His tongue was in her mouth or hers was in his, probably sloppy technique but neither of them knew better. Over the years, as she'd grown prettier every day, he had felt fear slip into his throat that she'd figure out the awful way he'd made her life, that he wasn't good enough or smart enough or funny enough for a girl who had the whole world at her fingertips. Or she did, before he snatched it away with death and danger.

But somehow they were hiding in trees at the Henry Doorly Zoo and together and kissing, really kissing, and he couldn't believe he'd gotten so lucky. Steven took a step forward, guiding her back so she could lean on the tree as he gave her one last peck on the lips before moving to her chin, softly kissing along her jaw, slow as he could make himself go. He could ever inch of her skin be so soft? How could they spend a long day walking in the hot sun and she still smelled like home and comfort?

"You're shaking," Steven murmured, because his own had finally stopped and he could focus on her. He could feel her fingers trembling on his chest, her body suffering the same fate. He nuzzled at her neck, physical in his affection and concern. "Are you okay?"

"Uh huh," she said, voice tight. "Just nervous."

His mouth reached her ear, and his voice was dropping low, rough and purring in a way he hadn't even thought to do on purpose. "We can stop whenever you want. I don't want to push."

Steven kissed the lobe of her ear, where earrings went on the rare occasion she wore them, and she made a sound a little more than a sigh, almost a moan, and her hands bunched up on his shirt. That was everything, that was heaven condensed down into a single noise, a hit of pure happiness in knowing he’d made the girl he loved most in the universe purr for him.

Hearing that sound from her swept all his father's advice off the table in the space of a heartbeat, and his hand gripped her hip tight, barely holding himself back from the sudden urge to move the shirt aside and feel the hot skin of her belly. He swapped lips for teeth on the skin he had kissed just a moment before, and he tugged the tender spot.

She cried out. A desperate, eager sound that made his whole body hurt with the need to hear it again, but she flung her arms around him and buried her face to the crook of his neck with an embarrassed whimper. She didn't need to say she liked it too much. She didn't need to say it had scared her.

He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her softly, because making sure she was alright was much more important than the longing ache in his chest and stomach. He murmured, "It's okay. I love you."

"Love you," she agreed, hugging him tight. Her voice was high pitched again, tinged with a misery that tore at his heart, "I love you so much, Steven. I-I'm sorry I-"

"You don't need to apologize. It's okay. We can stop whenever you want. Or whenever I want. I…” He stroked her hair and laughed a little. “I mean, was it fun before it was too much? A-all of it, I mean. The whole date."

Connie pulled back, her eyes shining and a little tearful as she smiled at him. She nodded eagerly and swore, "This was the best day I had in a really, really long time. Every second was amazing and fun and... Thank you, Steven. It was an amazing date." She hesitated, then added shyly, “Kissing parts too.”

His heart fluttered in his chest. "Wanna finish it with Chinese takeout and watch a movie on your laptop?"

"Sounds like my kind of romance," she agreed with a giggle.

And he laughed back, walking hand in hand with her towards the entrance. His kind of romance was definitely sneaking off into bushes for thrilling kisses. It was long days of flirting. It was big romantic moments and flirting and candles and guitars. But, it was Connie, so romance was also fast food and bad movies. Popcorn and Tubetube video essays. Hot chocolate and books.

Really, he just spent too much time being far too in love with his Jam Bud.


	10. Bluebird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bluebird crashes their roadtrip.
> 
> [Fanart by the wonderful suf-fering!](https://suf-fering.tumblr.com/post/615140313758072832/the-contradiction-spun-around-in-her-head-not)

To say Steven's road trip was planned would be a generous statement. Steven planned to meet people, and there were days that he had to be in certain locations. So, they needed to be in Kansas City for Sadie's concert. And, until the next scheduled meetup in over a month, they had free reign to go wherever they pleased, which was usually just whatever space Steven thought was interesting that he had not yet traveled to.

So they gunned it down the long, empty roads of the Cornhusker state, opening the windows and sunroof and whooping at the dangerous speed. They skimmed back through Kansas, avoiding the big cities and tearing up dusty backroads as late or as early as they wanted.

And it was nice, really, because it meant that Connie could study as she needed to. Whenever memories crept or her body tensed and searched for threats she could never find, she could instead sink back into humanity. When she was feeling good, she threw on audiobooks and podcasts, and she and Steven were deeply absorbed in the content. They had long discussions of politics, movies, shows and stories, using the empty spaces of time to develop opinions. Friendly debate bounced back and forth as ideas developed, concepts refined with new information and new arguments.

Laying on the roof of his car they murmured about gender and sexuality. Steven's sweet, fumbling explanation of being pansexual - saying people were people, and he felt like he could fall in love with anyone the same. Connie's struggle to do the same with being bisexual, giggling that boys were like woah, and girls were like mmm, and enbies could fall either way. Their slow, embarrassing confession that yes - they had only felt the dizzying desire to be kissed and more by each other, which they both agreed was odd, but lacked any words to explain the feelings.

The stars shined bright overhead, surrounded by dust and patchy grass that grew browner and patcher the farther south they drove into Texoma. From inside the Dondai, a soundtrack from one of Connie's video games played, Western twang and steady beats fading to the background. She breathed deep and held his hand, fascinated by the hours and days of him doing nearly nothing, and starting to wonder if she could pull it off herself.

"So, this is how you've been spending your road trip?" she asked, hands folded across her belly. "See new stuff. Meet new people. Just... Relaxing, I guess?"

"Guess so." He laughed a little. "You know, sometimes you just need a breather to heal. Your brain needs to rest. And I needed to figure out who I was, anyway. You know, away from the gems and all the pressure."

She teased, "But isn't that how you make diamonds? The pressure?"

"Mmm. I didn't go to school so I wouldn't know." He grinned back. "I'm glad you're finally getting into it, Connie. I know you're still studying a lot, but you've been talking to me more too. It's really nice."

She smiled a little, letting thoughts flow without needing to be as precise, as correct as she usually thought she had to be. "I guess... I felt before like I couldn't just slow down, you know? Like I'm always action Connie with you, being all busy and getting stuff done. And now that you're really unwinding, I can too. Like we're finally getting back to the same place."

"What place?" he asked, staring at her so intensely her heart bounced in her chest.

"Being normal humans, I guess, with the past in the past." She pointed up to the stars. "They’re less scary, more really great and exciting. Looking at the universe like a journey instead of an adventure. All that other stuff can stay locked away."

Steven snorted, looking up at the sky like she was. "Well, I've gotta open the box once a week with Dr. Morris or I'll explode.” He thought about that a moment, then continued, “And it's less of a box and more of a new chapter, you know? It's always a part of you, and it might not be a good thing all the time, but it's part of who you are. You can't really ignore it. But that’s okay."

"Yeah," Connie lied, smiling brightly. The hair raised from the top of her scalp all the way down to her ankles, discomfort creeping into her mind. She kissed his cheek and rolled off the car. "I should probably get back to studying, though." 

She sank back into humanity, warm and safe.

* * *

Gem life came crashing back in the form of a blue and red cockroach on their windshield.

Bluebird Azurite, brilliant and graceful as always, zoomed in for the attack, only to splat her evil her face across the windshield. Steven and Connie screamed, with Steven barely managing to keep himself from slamming the breaks by choosing, instead, to flip the windshield wipers on. There was an awful little screech as she was whisked away, and Steven navigated to the side of the road.

"Who was that?" Connie gasped, her head swiveled around. “Or what? Was that some kind of gem monster?”

"Bluebird. I told you about her, remember?" He muttered, looking like the boy who’d dropped his ice cream cone. The car thunked into park, his seatbelt unclipping. "Guess she finally figured out where I am. I'll take care of it."

He opened the door, and Connie was quick to follow, unclipping and rushing out beside him to the grasslands that were growing every sparser by the hour. "Steven, wait! We can take care of it." She held out her hand with a smile, because why wouldn’t they fuse when the opportunity had presented itself? Why wouldn’t they slip into fighting the way they always had?

Steven smiled back. "They don't have to be a combat fusion anymore, you know. We can just be Stevonnie for fun now. I can take care of this on my own."

She laughed despite the sudden fearsome ache in her chest. "Aw, come on. You're not gonna fight Aqua without me again, are you?"

His eyes widened slightly, his face pained for just a moment before his hand slid into hers with a twirl. There was no time to think about that now. She focused her mind on the mission at hand, filling herself with the determination and fierceness that made sliding into Stevonnie effortless. They wiggled bare toes on hot, scratchy asphalt, and stepped off into grass, holding up their hand as Bluebird raced forward, slamming into their palm like a baseball into a glove.

"Are you seriously gonna keep bothering us?" Stevonnie said dryly, watching her push and flutter madly against their immovable hand. Obsidian was hot and wild, Sunstone was surrealist charm - even Smokey was an erratic rush of power. But no fusion felt more effortlessly powerful than Stevonnie - nothing but confidence and control. "Nothing better to do than chase around a guy trying to enjoy a road trip?"

She snarled. "When we destroy you, Steven Universe, Aquamarine and Ruby will return to their former glory in-"

Bluebird yelped as Stevonnie tossed her over their head with a sigh, crossing their arms as they watched her splutter in the dirt. "Steven's Pink Diamond. Do you really think the Diamonds would be happy if you managed to kill him?" They scoffed, shaking their head. "Like you could even manage. Seriously, he can take you in his sleep. And, with the two of us fused you're kind of just...."

They arched an eyebrow, watching her wings flutter as she stood, taking in too many feet churning up the dust. It even slipped into her water wings, making them dingy and gray. A smirk twisted at their lips. She really did look the part. "A roach."

Bluebird groaned, grabbing her head, before white light overtook her and the fusion fell apart. ("They're really not stable, huh?" Stevonnie asked, and replied, "They literally just fuse because they hate me.") Stevonnie watched the fusion heartedly bicker and growl, too quietly to make out the words, before they suddenly turned to him with identical fake smiles.

"You're so right, my Diamond!" Aquamarine said, saccharine sweetness dripping from every posh word. "We've been so _stu_ pid!"

"Yeah," Ruby agreed. "We won't be bothering you anymore while you're _fused_."

The two of them burst into giggles, and Stevonnie rolled their eyes to the heavens. Were there gods? Could they, perhaps, lend some strength? Could they at least insist there would be some sort of punishment in the afterlife? If hell existed, perhaps that could give some external cause to not simply _yeet_ the annoying bug into the sun.

Stevonnie held out their hands. "Guys. _Please_. You can't take Steven even if we’re not fused. You're not even a threat! You're just annoying! Last time you had to kidnap Steven's dad to do anything, and we’re not gonna see his dad for a long time!"

"That's why we're obviously giving up," Aqua agreed smugly. She nodded primly as she continued to confirm, "We're going straight back to Homeworld and we're never bothering you again."

"Yeah!" Ruby said. "We're never talking to this weird human gem thing again!"

Stevonnie leaned against the Dondai, and it creaked under their weight. Flatly, they muttered, "Do you have any idea how bad we want to bubble you and send you back to the temple? It'd be so easy." And then, with a little surprise in their voice, their eyebrows raising, "I mean, why don't we? Just get it over with."

White light spread across their body as Aqua and Ruby giggled, racing off across the land by the side of the highway, while Stevonnie frowned to themself. "Because you can't just attack someone outside of a fight. I can't!"

"They came for you," Stevonnie argued, shoving off the car and shaking their head hard. "Everything's a fight after that. And they're going to keep coming! Isn't it protecting you to go after them?"

"I don't need protecting!"

They fell apart, grunting as they landed in prickly shrubs, and Connie hissed as her elbow scraped on the pavement. Without hesitating, Steven came to her side to kiss the ache away. His eyes shamefully met hers. "Sorry for yelling. But, I mean, it's not like Jasper. It's Bluebird. They're frustrating and... And yeah, they can trigger some bad stuff for me.”

Connie frowned. “If they’re a trig-”

He cut her off. “But it doesn't feel right to beat them up when they aren't doing anything. I don't want to be that person. I don’t want to hurt people because they goad me. I want to control myself. I want to keep being the person I _want_ to be."

"If someone's threatening to go buy a gun to kill you, you don't have to let them go," Connie insisted fiercely. "That’s not being aggressive! That’s not being cruel! It's still self-defense! It's still protecting you! I know that with the stuff with Jasper, with White-"

He put his hand to his heart. "I don't want to do this. It’s not about what’s okay by the law or, like, the world, or philosophy. It’s me. I'd rather wait for them to give us a reason, because that's the person I want to be. I don't want to hunt them down. I don't want to poof them."

Steven put his hand on her knee, his voice gentling further. "But if this is going to make your trip bad, if you're not gonna feel safe, I'll go get them right now. I'll poof them, or I'll just bubble them and call the gems to pick them up. We’re in this together, and I’m not gonna let them make you feel like you’re in danger."

Anger simmered in her chest, the implication somehow awful when directed at her instead of him, but she forced her face still as she shook her head. "I don't need protecting either. But with everything you've been through, I-"

"I'm in therapy, and I'm going to talk to Dr. Morris about this," Steven cut her off, a shocking firmness to his voice. The kind of voice he used when one of the gems where pushy, were needy, when he needed to get them off his back. "I'm not denying help. I'm giving you a boundary. I do not want to be that person again. I do not want to attack them. If you're doing this for me, you need to stop."

She swallowed, shameful and guilty as she looked away. "Okay. Message received. We'll let them go."

"Thank you." He stood and held out his hand. His face opened up again, less firm, less strict, back to the happy guy she normally thought of him as, though she knew there was always more to it than that. "Come on. Let's hit a grocery store and get some junk food to cope."

"Are you okay?" she asked, frowning. "No pink?"

"Honestly?" He rubbed his cheeks with an awkward grin. "It's more about being worried about hurting other people than being hurt. Unless someone's going for my gem, or if a real threat shows up... I freak out way more about accidentally hurting someone than anything else.”

She grinned, elbowing him as the fighting drew to a close and they were ever lovable Jam Buds once again. “Aw, you’re not freaked out for me?”

“Freaked out for you? Incredible warrior Connie Maheswaran?” He kissed her nose and said adoringly, “Only sometimes. But, as long as we’re together, I’m not gonna let anything hurt you. I promise. You’re always safe with me.” He hesitated, and then there was a slight pink flush to his cheeks - the bad kind of flush, the magic kind. “I mean, I can do my best to keep you safe. Even if I bring the monsters around.”

“Hey.” She murmured, softly cradling his cheeks. She searched his face, struggling to put the pieces together, to find the words to comfort him most. Connie settled for what felt right, as was so often the case with him. “None of that. I chose to be here, and I knew what I was getting into. I love you, Steven.”

He flung his arms around her, suddenly tearful and shaking. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t even think… When we’re Stevonnie, you feel so confident and calm and… and I know you’re safe. I didn’t even think about… when we’re not fused you’re…” He pulled back, looking out into the grasslands where they had fled. “I can go get them right now, Connie!”

She clung to him tight, tears stinging her eyes as she buried her face in his chest. “Steven, you don’t need to hurt people for me, not ever. I know how much you hate it. I know how it hurts you. It’s okay! I’m sorry I even brought it up.”

She took a deep breath, put on a smile, and dropped her hands to his. Comforting. Warm. Right. Monsters had come beating at his door and she was always going to be his knight. She was always going to protect him, no matter how her armor might have been rusting. “Let’s just go crash at a hotel early today, okay? Let’s take a break from traveling. This was a lot.”

Steven nodded tearfully, but the pink in his cheeks was gone. “It was. Yeah. Let’s just crash for a while.”

* * *

Everything was fine as Stevonnie and now it wasn’t.

Connie sat at her laptop, and she was vibrating, every nerve on fire and on edge, her eyes constantly drifting to the window (“Wanna close it for privacy?” he’d asked and she’d lied, “No, I want the sunlight”) just in case, just in case. No gem had ever come to her house or snuck in through her window but they had for Steven. She _knew_ they had for Steven, and she was with Steven now.

She was always going to be with Steven that wasn’t an option that wasn’t a choice. It was a choice but she was making it always to be with him, through anything. She could take it. It was fine. She looked out the window and she looked at her laptop screen and how did you partition off pieces of yourself so they never mixed, never touched?

Normal human beings went to college and Connie was a normal human being and she was studying _right now_ and she was planning to go to college _soon_ and everything was normal and fine because she wasn’t Steven, with his real problems and hard life.

The shower turned off (“Is it okay for me to shower?” he’d asked and she’d said “Why wouldn’t it be?” and he’d said “So you don’t have to be alone” and she’d hated it) and Steven called through the closed door, “I think I had a little panic attack while I got clean? But I got it managed. You’re still okay out there, right?”

She took a gulp from her water bottle, wetting her dry throat. “Yeah, Steven. I’m good. Just studying.”

“Ugh. It’s so dusty. I think I changed color in the shower just from getting clean.” He laughed. How on earth was he laughing when they were out there, they were coming, when _anything_ could be out there for them at any minute? “I’m just really glad I’m doing this with you, you know? To have someone sort of… not human?”

She laughed, and her voice came out so calm as her hands frantically weaved through her hair, her body shaking. She wouldn’t look out the window but her eyes kept sliding again and again and again. “I’m _pretty_ human, Steven.”

“I mean, yeah, but… like, you’re more like Lars than Sadie, you know?” Steven said cheerfully. Happily. What a cute boy, what a sweet boy, what an every-day-more-well-adjusted boy. “You get gem stuff, you grew up with it. And you know what it’s like to deal with all this scary stuff. It’s a part of who you are. Like, Sadie had a couple bad times, but it’s not like you. You were there for everything.”

“Not everything,” she said, forcing the words out. Her breath was coming harder, her heart pounding in her chest like she was running. Her fingers fumbled for her coffee cup, shoving it into the trash because the caffeine was doing something awful to her and liquid splashed out, splattered like blood on a holospear.

“I mean, yeah, but enough. Ugh, I think there’s still dust between my toes.” He laughed, his voice labored as he worked at getting clean. “Like, you know all this survival stuff. You know how to deal with combat. You always know where all the exits are, or how to keep someone off us. I mean, stars, the way you _move_ -”

“What’s wrong with the way I move?” It came out angry. She fisted her hands in her hair and gently twisted, steadily increasing the tension to focus on something other than ragged, racing thoughts. Stop talking. Stop thinking. _stopstopstop_

“Nothing’s wrong! It’s beautiful.” He sighed longingly. “You’re just a warrior in everything, you know? You’re so confident. You know your body so well. You’re just… so amazing. It’s like you have a sword in your hand even when you don’t, you know?”

“No,” she said, her voice raspy.

“I mean, I can spar with you like any quartz.”

Sitting was hard.

“You took that guy out at the concert like… stars, it was nothing. You’re so strong.”

Everything was spinning. She had to lay down. She grabbed her laptop and stumbled to her feet, holding it between her fingers by an edge like a folder.

“I just… After Bluebird today, I know that if I wasn’t with you, if I wasn’t Stevonnie, I’d feel really alone and wrong.” Steven grunted, then sighed. “Ugh, gross. Like, I’m the only hybrid. But whenever you’re around, I have this reminder that humans get changed by all this stuff too, you know? That you got changed. It’s just nice to feel like I’m not alone, like you’re not a normal human either. I needed that.”

Her computer slipped from her hands, slamming hard enough to make a nice thud despite the carpet. The contradiction spun around in her head. Not normal, but he needed that. Changed, but he needed that. A warrior, and one he needed. She swayed in place for a moment, staring out the wide window as her head reeled. Connie got to go home on the weekends. Connie got to go to school. Connie had a gem life, and a human life, and never the twain shall meet.

The shaking eased as she let the decision fade. Fine. This was a gem mission now, simple as that. Her eyes skimmed the horizon, her stance slipping wider as she forced a smile on her face and cheeriness into her voice. “You know I’m always here for whatever you need, Steven.” Her foot slipped forward and closed the lid of her laptop where it lay on the floor.

She didn’t even notice the cracks on her screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in for a rough few chapters, guys. Think of this as Connie's Fragments through I Am My Monster. But it'll get brighter on the other side.
> 
> See you on Monday for Chapter 11 - Cracked.


	11. Cracked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie cracks.
> 
> TW: broken bones and bruising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank the many people who helped beta this chapter - FollowerofMercy, Moonie, Suf-fering, and the ever present Echo. Thank you guys for all your help on this one.
> 
> First pic from the wonderful [Rannvadraws!](https://rannvadraws.tumblr.com/)  
> Art from the lovely [Arcadediamond! ](https://arcadediamond.tumblr.com/)

They drove out west, and things were good. Everything was good. It didn't always feel good, but things were good, and that was what really mattered in the end. She'd looked up plenty about mental illness. Mental illness was when it affected your life, when you couldn't be normal, and Connie was one hundred percent normal. A totally typical human, really.

When Connie was eleven years old, she had her first experience of being in a bubble - bashed and beaten and attacked by the world, with Steven her only source of safety. She would have died if it wasn't for him, and anything that happened after didn't matter. She would have died, but she didn't. And that was what really mattered in that end, right?

Sometimes, in the car, on the road, when she wasn't driving and Steven had music she couldn't focus on and her brain was fried from trying to read or study but completely out of materials (because she couldn't tell him about the broken laptop, she couldn't, because he might ask how it happened and that wasn't a normal human thing that had happened), the roars of tires would grow louder and louder until it was the sound of tons of seawater over her head, ready to rush in and crush her at any moment. It was just a mimic. The sounds were similar, was all.

It wasn't a flashback. Connie knew exactly where she was. She wasn't disoriented. When Steven said her name, it was easy to shift attention and focus on him instead. She just couldn't stop thinking about it. Couldn't stop the anxiety that came along with it. Couldn't stop searching the horizon for something to fight. And there was something to fight - Bluebird - so that was totally normal too.

On the bright side, being so on edge all day wiped her out, so that each night she collapsed into bed for a long, dreamless sleep. She probably could have slept without her bunny. Few things were healthier than getting a good night's sleep. She was getting some great shut-eye, and focusing on the upsides in life was important when times got stressful.

After all, when she was thirteen on Homeworld she focused on the upsides, because Steven had needed some sunshine in such an awful time. In some cultures, thirteen was actually considered being an adult, and she had played the part fairly well, she thought. Connie had smiled and held his hand and danced and rationed food and ignored being called pet and yelled at Diamonds and she was strong when he was broken always, always, always.

Yes. She was great at making the best of a bad situation, at coping with things other people couldn't, that even gems couldn’t. Connie smiled through rest stops and enjoyed exciting museum dates and hated clubs (she'd learn to love them for Steven eventually) and loved shows and movies and exploring new places and meeting new people. Her Instagraph timeline was shaping up to be pretty darn exciting.

Steven talked to his therapist and talked to the gems, and she was so glad he was healing. The gems and his father were finally helping, finally doing something right, after spending years of standing by and doing nothing. But they'd apologized to Steven, finally, after she'd cornered them and yelled at them and forced them to get into shape because she'd saved the whole city but, oh, that wasn't _enough_ , not for them. Was it ever enough? Useless and needy and pleading people who couldn't manage a thing on their own, even the Diamonds. 

And of course they wouldn't apologize to her. Who would apologize to her? Not that she needed an apology when she'd gone and saved the galaxy with Steven. It was petty to think about it. To complain. Everything they did was for a reason and that reason was to protect Steven, just like she was doing right now. He protected her and she protected him.

Except he didn't protect her and no one apologized and no one would yell at the gems for her but it was her fault, wasn't it? Because she lied and lied and lied and all it would take was telling her parents or telling the gems and maybe, for once, they'd step up to the plate for her like they'd finally started to for Steven but no. 

No. 

That was all in the past, and she needed to learn not to dwell on it. Connie was moving on. Bigger and better things awaited, like hikes and new people and exciting parties and the exciting similarities between all parts of the country.

For instance, one of the interesting things was that grocery stores never really seemed to change. Every state they went too seemed to have the same three grocery stores, with nearly identical layouts, no matter how far and wide they traveled. Even as they reached New Aquamexico, as cactuses stretched up towards the sky, as dirt turned to sand and the sun turned roasting, the grocery stores stayed the same.

Steven and Connie sighed together in bliss as they stepped from over one-hundred-degree weather into the beautifully cold artificial world of the grocery store. They appreciated the sudden chill on their skin, the breeze from the AC over their sweat-drenched clothes. The lights were too bright, and like most grocery stores, it was noisy in a quiet way, but it sure was better than outside at the moment.

"Let's never go hiking in a desert again," Steven groaned.

"I think I drank a swimming pool of water," Connie groaned back. "And sweat all of it out. Nobody said it’d be that awful!"

"Okay. So we went through... Too much water." He laughed, recalling over a gallon chugged by them each. "We'll load up the car with a bunch of bottles so we can keep exploring. Grab some snacks and we should be all good."

Connie nodded. "Sounds perfect. I'll grab a cart."

Steven, in true Steven fashion, wanted to hit the candy and chips first. Responsible when he wasn't, she rolled her eyes with good humor and dragged him to what they needed and loaded up the cart with jugs of water. A brief debate about the value and ecological impact of bottles, and they compromised with one six-pack of individual bottles, and would mostly refill their reusable metal ones from jugs. The scuffle was brief. Uncontroversial. Easy. That was how things were supposed to go when he and Connie were on missions. He trusted her.

She let him have all the snacks he wanted, she didn’t protest at all. She could have! She could have argued about nutritional value and what they needed to survive and properly packing the car now that Bluebird was on their tail, but she didn’t. And then they were back in the meal bar aisles again, and Steven was scolding, like he knew what they needed and she didn’t. "We have, like, forty of these I'm already not allowed to eat. How many do you want?"

"We have twenty," Connie said. She struggled to keep her voice steady, to stop the frustration and anger from slipping out. "Three a day for decent survival rations for each of us means we don't even have four days worth of food! We should have at least a week."

He rolled his eyes as he leaned against the cart. "How are we going to be away from food for a week?"

They had had this debate before. She was sure they would have it again. Because, for some reason, Steven just wouldn’t listen, refused to understand the risk. Connie’s tone got more snappish as she laid it out again, "We could crash. Bluebird could knock us off course. We could run into a corrupted gem."

"If we run into a corrupted gem I'm calling Garnet. I'm on a break," Steven retorted. "And we're always gonna have Lion!"

"Sometimes he doesn't come!"

Steven shook his head. "He always comes when you need him! He’s never _not_ been there for you, Connie."

"But what if he doesn't!" she cried, fists clenching up tight at her sides. The tension was high in everything, the lights overhead too bright and too noisy, like the room where Steven had once nearly died and she’d been there and she carried him, and she shook her head furiously to clear it of the thoughts. "I know how to protect us! You're not preparing! You're not thinking ahead! It doesn't take anything to-"

"It takes up space! And it just... It feels weird! The stuff you’re saying sounds..." Steven trailed off, hesitating, gentling, "Connie, you sound kind of scared? You almost sound kinda paranoid. Are you-?"

Screams suddenly filled the air. People rushed past the aisle in both directions - everything panicked and scrambled. A moment later, an evil little cackle cut through the ambient cacophony as blue and red rushed by, taking out a small stand of sports drinks as she passed. Steven growled, summoning his shield. "It's like they can sense the worst time to do anything. I'll take care of it."

He was off before she could do anything, rushing after the villain and leaving her behind. Again. Because she was a normal human, of course. That’s what she wanted. To be normal. But she was in mission mode now, so shouldn’t he ask her to come? Her eyebrows furrowed as she leaned against the cart. The world was oddly tilted and unsteady under her feet.

There was so much chaos. Screaming and running as Bluebird cackled and ripped through shelves. Steven would take a while, as having to keep everyone in the store safe would stop him from going all out and ending the fight in moments. No one had their eyes on her (no one ever did). She swallowed as she looked at the shelves. It would only be a second. It wouldn't hurt anyone. Steven wouldn't know.

And, as she ripped open her backpack and grabbed a box of meal bars, she realized it was really for his own good. They'd bent the law on occasion. She pushed the bars beneath books, quickly zipping the bag shut and grabbing cash from her pocket. A twenty crammed where the empty spot was. It was fine. Overpaid. Wasn't even breaking the law. Paying for goods with a tip for being a good sport about the unconventionality of it.

She pushed the cart to another aisle, making sure Steven wouldn't see the empty spot or the cash. Despite all the chaos, the panic, the fear that had bunched in her stomach uncoiled, replaced with calm confidence as she rushed off to find Steven. Everything was back to normal as she found him in the soda aisle, shield flared out before him. He looked more peeved than anything as Bluebird smacked cans of coke at him. Her grubby little hands reached out, tossed a can in the air, and then hit it with the long rod in her hand. Connie would call it a glaive if anything - a long stick with a crackling blade of yellow light attached to the end.

Connie stepped up behind him, watching another one of the pelted cans bounce off of his shield. "What does she have?"

"Another disruptor. Same thing but differently shaped," Steven said, pointing to the blade. "Yellow Diamond’s essence harnessed for the masses. It’s harmless for full humans and ticklish for me, so everyone's safe. I'm just waiting for her to quit throwing her tantrum."

"Thought so," Connie said with a nod. "Just wanted to check. I know sometimes-" 

"Two against one doesn't seem fair, Universe," Bluebird cackled, the utterly baffling mix of accents making both the teens cock their heads, desperate to try to place it. Then she broke, her two components falling apart with eager delight.

Eyeball cackled, "We said we wouldn't bother you when you were fused, but the two-"

"Yeah!" Steven shouted. "We knew! Again! Everyone knew!"

"Good luck catching us _both_ , Universe," Aquamarine taunted. The glaive was in her hands, and she swiped off top rows of soda, paper towels, and chips as she zoomed towards the entrance leaving minor property damage and frustration in her wake.

Connie glared. "I'll get her."

"Wait! You don't have your sword! We should-" But Connie was charging after the little blue gem, and another can of soda bounced off his shield. He glared at Eyeball, who smirked and hefted another can in hand.

"Good luck taking me out without messing up the store, traitor," Ruby smirked.

Connie was a Crystal Gem, human or not. She’d handled plenty beside him and without him. And, over the years, Steven had come just fine into his own with his Diamond powers. He had steadily become an unstoppable shield, an unbreakable powerhouse, and fights like these were an annoyance at worst.

He didn’t think much about the fact that Connie had not grown in similar ways.

The girl in question followed Aquamarine out the front door, burst from the air-conditioned building into the hot desert, her eyes focused on Aqua as she flew ahead. Her feet pounded after her, the store growing smaller and smaller behind them as she shouted, "Scared to face me without your wand? Come down here!"

"Who needs a wand?" Aqua grinned, holding out the glaive as she spun to face her. The yellow blade hummed in the dry air, low and steady in the still place. "You're unarmed and I'm _very_ armed. You're outmatched, Connie."

Connie faltered. She’d looked Lapis dead in the eyes and asked her to remember who she was, and the pretty gem had looked away and shrugged and never glanced at her twice. Whenever the Diamonds had come around, they were so focused on Steven that they never noticed her. She took a step back, frowning. "You know who I am?" 

"Of course I know who you are. You were on the list. A _Connie_ . I collected you in Topaz." She grinned as Connie felt a horror coil in the back of her mind, the memory of hard light around her, the knowledge that at any more of an angle and she wouldn't be able to breathe. Aqua twirled the crackling staff like a baton. "You're Steven Universe's little _fusion_ friend. And neither me nor Ruby wants to deal with that."

Connie's fists clenched, her feet shifting in the sand as a solid brace. "I'm not going to let you kidnap me again. You can't use me to get to Steven."

"I don't want you kidnapped." She laughed and raised the blade high in both her hands, a dark, manic glint coming to her eyes. "I want you shattered!" 

Aqua rushed forward, blade swinging with an angry swipe across her head. In the surprise of it, Connie barely dodged, leaning back as she struggled to escape, only for yellow magic to move past her skin like a breeze. Her heart clenched, the first strike and she’d already made a mistake, only saved by the choice of weapon. Her muscles were already sore from the hike, from partial dehydration. She swallowed as the little gem glared up at her. "Don't poof, do you?"

Connie snapped, "Sorry to disappoint.”

She darted forward, leg snapping out to kick, but Aqua was up and moving before she got there. They were easily matched in speed, easily matched in breakability. There was no clashing of weapons, no contact. Each move was maneuvered and dodged, looking more like a panting, growling dance across the sand than a fight.

Even then, Aqua felt erratic, unpredictable. Her movements were uncoordinated and untrained - apparently Ruby wasn't a good combat teacher. She was hard to block, hard to dodge, just because of the randomness of it all. But that came with weaknesses - Connie feinted with her left hand and caught Aquamarine across the head with the other, sending her tumbling back into the sand. 

She shrieked with rage, running forward with her stick flailing and jabbing and swiping through the air. Connie's eyes went wide as she stumbled, trying her best to dodge the unhinged attack. And a hit from the rod would hurt. Aqua snarled gleefully as she jabbed, "I'm going to keep all your shards in a frame! Everyone will rue the day they messed with me!"

"You're so vain," Connie hissed as the stick skimmed her arm, a brief pain that would be a bruise later. She couldn't dodge forever, and she'd get tired before Aquamarine. She was tired now after the hike, her lips feeling cracked and her mouth dry from the heat. Stars, being Connie wasn’t enough. What would Steven do? "You could be a part of Little Homeworld! Or Earth! There are so many places you could fit in if you gave it a chance!" 

"Steven Universe is a liar and a traitor. He ruined my life. I saw him ruin yours, Connie, abandoning you in the water.” She looked smug, tilting her head with a terrible smile. “Not a very good fusion partner, is he? Not very respectful, was he?" 

Connie fumbled, temper flaring, because she couldn’t say that about _Steven_. But it only ever took one mistake. She could never make a mistake, even now. The glaive swings weren't weren't right for the weapon type. It wasn't a hit to her side or belly or chest, or a sweep to her legs, or even a whack to her head, but a hard overhead swing down, straight onto her collarbone.

Years of broken bones had built up Connie’s pain tolerance to that kind of thing - kisses on her hand, on her feet and occasionally arms and legs would ease away the deep ache that followed the break. She knew what it felt like to have her skeleton fracture and split from a blow. She knew exactly what the hit had done.

That didn't stop the scream.

Pain, hot and blinding, had her stumble back as it radiated out from the spot. Worse than any other broken bone, it stole the breath from her lungs by the agony alone. Every jostle of her arm sent searing pain across her senses, like a knife was being dug and twisted against her neck and chest with every step. As she reeled, as she tried to ground herself, Aquamarine's giddy little laugh filled her ears. "I felt that! Humans _crack_ , don’t they?"

Anger flooded in, icy against the heat in the air, the burning in her chest, and she charged the blue gem without hesitation. Pain didn’t matter - not from her broken bone, not from the rod she let slam into her gut. Her left hand, the still-working hand, ripped the weapon free. Aqua's shriek filled her ears and it didn't matter. She _should_ be angry and frightened. For once, someone should feel that way looking down the barrel of Connie’s weapon. She spun it around, crackling hot in the air, and stabbed it forward.

The yellow energy slipped between Aqua's eyes, branching out like electricity through wood as she gasped and spasmed. Then she poofed, her tiny, insignificant gem dropping with a quiet little plop into the sand below.

Connie grit her teeth and stomped down on the gem, grinding it hard against coarse sand, wishing it would sting Aqua the way it would have stung her. It wouldn’t of course. All the stomping in the world wouldn’t matter. She spit venom beneath her heel, "You can crack too, you know."

She breathed deep and agony bit through her chest as the adrenaline of the moment faded. Her legs turned to rubber, crumpling down to her knees, and the sudden movement only made the pain worse. "It hurts," she gasped to no one, tears filling her eyes. "Stars, it hurts. It hurts every time."

The sun burned down on her back and her breath came in ragged, came out as a sob. She tried to keep it focused, keep it tight, to keep the need from slipping out. So often when she was miserable Lion came to her side, nuzzling and crooning until her tears had stopped, but she couldn’t stand for him to be there now, could only be grateful that Steven would be delayed as the pathetic words kept coming.

"I can’t heal. It just hurts,” she said, sniveling and weak and a mess. “The training hurt and the drowning hurt and being trapped hurt and falling hurt a lot. I'm not good enough for any of this. I’m supposed to be able to take it."

Her hand fumbled in the dirt for the rod, and she laid the crackling thing on Aquamarine's teardrop. The disruptor energy hummed softly in the stillness, keeping her perpetually poofed. Guilt crushed at her as another cry came forward, her working hand over her mouth as she struggled to muffle the sound. "I hope it doesn't hurt! I'm sorry. I don't have a bubble so this... I can't fight you if you come back. I'm so sorry, Aqua." 

Connie looked ahead to the grocery store in the distance, body trembling. She tried to will herself to grab the gem, to stand up, to walk to where Steven was fighting inside, but there was nothing to do with pain so overwhelming. She was frozen to the spot.

Every second she sat there Steven could be inside fighting Ruby, making a hundred mistakes. Was he healing away burns? Did a shelf hurt him as it tumbled down? Did some kid get attacked, scratched up, and Steven was going pink from the guilt of it? She was supposed to be there. She was supposed to help.

"I can't move. It hurts too much, I'm really sorry." The sun burned across her neck, and any anger that was left melted under it. Every gasp of hot desert air warmed her inside to misery and despair as her tears vanished into the sand. "I failed."

* * *

Steven found her in her spot over Aquamarine's gem, about fifteen minutes after the fight had occurred. Fights weren’t really fast, after all, unless you had to stop a frustrating Ruby from flinging handfuls of popcorn at lost children. Connie smiled, so relieved to see him, and relief coursed through him as well as he eagerly came to her side.

His arms reached out eagerly for a hug, but her voice cracked with panic. "Don't!" He froze and she hurriedly explained, "I broke a bone. Fix it before hugging, please. And get Aqua bubbled first."

Connie’s voice was tight and pained, so it must have been a nasty one. Steven watched her wince as she slowly fumbled with the buttons of her shirt, terribly slow. That was where it was - he quickly moved in to loosen the fabric and sweep it aside, even as her voice mumbled, "Steven, you should bubble Aquamarine and send her home first."

That was stupid. He ignored it. He cringed at the sight - the very obviously broken bone around her neck made his stomach churn with sympathy. He leaned in, softly kissing the spot. A hiss of pain, followed by a sigh. He swept his thumb across it once, making sure everything felt right, then looked to the gem under the buzzing disruptor.

"Oof," he muttered, feeling an eyebrow raise. "That's no fun."

"I-I'm sorry,” Connie said, almost whimpering. “I can't bubble so I-"

"No, it's fine. Eyeball didn’t have the best time getting poofed either." Steven laughed, kissing her forehead. His hand softly cradled her cheek as he held her face close to his, just happy to have her safe and sound. "You did what you had to, and-”

Connie shook her head. “I’m sorry you had to poof her. I’m sorry I couldn’t do it for you.”

“I’m happy being the kind of person who protects other people.” He laughed. “They were going to hurt people, and we stopped them. And you're safe! I knew you would be but, uh, I got a little pink before I saw you."

She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry I worried you."

"That's not what I meant, silly." He flicked the disruptor off, pushing it aside, then quickly bubbled Aquamarine - just as he had bubbled Eyeball just a bit earlier. He'd have to call the gems soon to explain as he bounced the bubble and teleported it off to the temple. He looked back to her with a bright smile. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"My stomach, I think? And my arm." She rolled up her sleeve slightly, and he kissed a light bruise there. Then she pulled up her shirt and Steven gasped a world Pearl wouldn't have approved of. A nasty looking mottled black and purple spread across her abdomen, and the thought of being smacked there made him squirm with discomfort. He licked his finger and tapped it to the injury, and she laughed a little. "Seriously, Steven, the broken collarbone was way worse."

He grinned. "Dr. Steven does not actually have a medical degree. My bones heal too fast to notice. Even if they're all scarred up."

Connie went still, her smile frozen in place. "What’s that mean?"

"Didn't your mom tell you?" Steven cocked his head as he leaned back in the sand. "For some of the really bad hits my bones broke, but I fixed them up before I noticed. I guess my healing isn’t perfect and they showed up on the X-ray."

"No. She... Doctors don't tell…” Connie shook her head, her face crunching up with confusion as she pressed, “What do you mean they showed up? Like what?"

"I guess the bones healed with scars? Like normal people's bones, I guess." He squeezed her hand. “Are you okay?”

"Did you heal _me_ all the way?" she asked, her free hand snagged the lapel of his jacket, her eyes wide with panic. "I-I thought you fixed it! I thought there wasn't anything left behind! It’s gonna show up on an x-ray? It’s still inside me?"

"I don't know!" he squeaked, pushing at her hand. "Maybe? You can ask your mom to-"

"I'm not asking Mom anything about this." She shook her head, pushing to her feet and dusting herself off with a furious shake of her head. "No. It's over. Aquamarine is poofed and you got Ruby right? It's done and we can get back to being human."

"I mean, yeah. I..." He stared up at her. "Connie, are you okay? It's hard to tell sometimes but you feel really stressed."

"Of course I'm stressed!" she snapped, sweeping her arms out to the scene around them. "I just got cracked by that awful little fairy! It hurt a lot, Steven!"

He winced, trying to speak calmly, "Okay, I-"

"It hurts when you don't have magic! I don’t heal right away!" she snapped. "I have to wait for you to heal me! It's not always fast and it's not instant! I feel it! It really hurts!"

"No, I know," Steven said, eyes wide. He held up his hands in surrender. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Me? What about you?" she said, dropping to her knees again to grab his shoulders. "You said you went pink, right? Are you going to be okay, or do you need to call your therapist? I can give you some space so you can get it taken care of."

Steven shook his head, his head spinning as he tried to understand anything, tried to piece together all the whiplash and confusion from her actions. "No, I was just a little worried for you. I'm fine."

"If you're not, you shouldn't hide it from me," she insisted. "I don't want you trying to solve everyone else's problems instead of your own. You have to take care of yourself."

"Uh. Yeah." He frowned, and something about it felt wrong. It felt oddly familiar. He wanted to call it his own actions, the careful way he dodged questions from the gems, turned things around when he needed to. But wouldn’t that be turning it around again? Doing what she was worried about? He tried, weakly, "No, I know. I just... It doesn't feel like you're okay."

She hugged him tight, clinging to him and rocking. "If you're okay, I'm okay. That's all that matters. Let's forget this whole mess ever happened and go get the groceries, okay?" 

And they did. Connie helped him load the groceries into the back of the car, the groceries they bought together. They loaded up the trunk full of water and snacks before moving on, the little scuffle over the protein bars forgotten.

They spent the afternoon checking out cliff dwellings, both of them held rapt by the tour guide teaching them all about the wonders of ancient humanity. They asked questions and listened to other people ask questions and they pretended, for a little while, that they were ancient cliff dwellers, giggling awkwardly and stopping their game whenever an adult walked past.

It was normal. It was fine. Connie was normal and fine mostly? It was hard to say, because Steven knew he had an awful habit of searching for problems where there weren’t any. So maybe Connie acted weird sometimes, and maybe she looked scared or on edge, and maybe something felt off about her the past few days since Bluebird, but what if he was off? What if he was searching for problems because maybe he had problems he didn’t want to think about?

He really wasn’t trying to be nosy.

Connie dug through her bag to shuffle around books and supplies, and he saw a box of protein bars. The other bars they had were in a plastic bag in his backseat. All of them. The bars he practically had to beg her for whenever he was driving. The bars she scowled over every time he grabbed one without asking. So much of his road trip frustration could be boiled down to that one plastic bag, so he knew fully well what brand they had bought weeks ago.

That wasn’t the brand in her backpack, though. That wasn’t the flavor. That was the brand and flavor they had bickered over in the grocery store, before Bluebird attacked. That was the time he had left her alone in all the chaos, where she would have had time, if she wanted, to take the box without anyone noticing. She had moved the cart, hadn’t she? She had checked out with him, hadn’t she? And that added up to something.

He asked for some time alone, and she took a walk without a single word, because that was the arrangement. If one of them needed time alone, the other one gave it. So what was he supposed to do with what he saw? It wasn’t right to spy, was it? To snoop? He hadn’t meant to be nosy at all, but now he couldn’t help it. He ignored everything else in her bag and tugged out the box of bars, falling back to the bed with the thing in his lap.

She’d stolen. She had to have stolen it. But why would she need to take it that bad? They had food, and if she had just said she wanted a different flavor, if she wasn’t so angry about him eating them, Steven wouldn’t care at all. He turned it over in his hands, confused and guilty and a mess from it all.

Normally, when he felt this awful, he could call Dr. Morris. He didn’t know if Dr. Morris would call the police if he said his friend had stolen. He didn’t know if Dr. Morris would be interested at all in the problem. Wouldn’t it be solving Connie’s problem? And Connie wasn’t paying him, so maybe he wasn’t even allowed to talk about it at all. Dr. Morris was always insistent on focusing on Steven’s issues, because Steven liked to help other people too much.

He was still staring at it when she knocked. He called, calmly, “Come in.”

She did. Her eyes flicked down to the box in his lap, and he had expected confusion or fear, but there was only an arch to her eyebrow. “Yoooou… want a protein bar? Just rip it open.”

Steven held it up, his voice halting. “Did you steal these?”

Her eyes widened, and then she laughed. “Oh, geez. Steven, I brought snacks from home!” Connie reached back into her bag, pulling out a handful of almond butter pouches and digging for a couple more granola bars.

Guilt and shame scorched up his face. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No! No, it’s okay.” She knelt in front of the bed, moving the bars from his hands and replacing it with her own, looking panicked now. “Don’t feel bad! I get why you thought I did. I’m not mad, or upset, you were right to think it, and you were being really nice about it.”

“I accused you of stealing!” he said.

Her mouth worked silently for a few moments, trying to find some way to make him less of an awful friend, an awful boyfriend, an awful person, before she fumbled, “I could steal! It’s really possible that I could steal. Everyone makes mistakes, right? Please, just don’t feel bad. Don’t blame yourself.”

He groaned, falling back on the bed. “I’m sorry, Connie. I’m trying to get better but I’m still looking for problems to fix.”

She stood slowly, her hand over her heart, her eyes wide and nervous. “You never need to fix me. Someone’s got to be your rock. Here, I’ll… hold on.”

Steven watched as she rushed around the little motel. A bag of popcorn in the microwave, instrumental music on her phone, a book in her hand as they curled up together, eager for a soft night of reading aloud and discussing all the high points and the low points of yet another fantasy book series. And maybe this one would be a new favorite, forever displayed on their shelves. Or maybe it’d be trash, swiftly forgotten.

What mattered was that Connie was there, even when he was pushy, even when he was finding problems that weren’t there. His head rested on her arm, confused and amazed at how he’d managed to get someone so wonderful. He whispered adoringly just before she started to read, “Thanks, Connie. I can always count on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you guys on Thursday for the next chapter - Lars


	12. Rusty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie drop onto another planet and hang out with Lars.
> 
> Thanks to LoveLuckyLost for the beta! They're a Lars expert.
> 
> Wonderful art from [Arcadediamond!](https://arcadediamond.tumblr.com/)

The nice thing about meeting up with Lars was that they didn’t have to be anywhere. They drove deep through Texahoma, devouring BBQ and okra and deep-fried foods that one would never expect to be deep-fried (“ _An oreo?”_ they’d both gasped in wonder, and then disappointment). They’d tried to hang out at fairs, at least, but there was no break from the noise and buzz, so their night ended early and turned into funnel cake and a walk around a cool, still lake.

Steven had apologized for needing a break from it all. Connie had insisted she didn’t mind at all as long as he was happy. He felt a little like a burden and tried to shrug it off.

When it was finally time to meet with their space-faring friend, they left from Bayou. They summoned Lion with pleading thoughts and bribed him to be a good boy with two half-eaten orders of fried catfish. Once Lion was being a well-behaved kitty, they double-checked the locks on the car, took a deep breath, and dove into a world of flowing pink. 

No matter the distance between Lars and Lion, the distance between the trees never varied, which was a relief. There would be no panic over whether they’d have enough air to reach the other side. Steven held Connie’s hand tight, always a little worried about her vanishing into the mysterious grass despite how safe he knew it was, and guided her to Lars’s tree. He pushed his hand through, and when he received a handshake instead of an angry slap, he and Connie tumbled from Lars’s hair and landed in another world.

Lunar Outpost 46BXJ was one of the few places Steven and Connie had been divided in their love for. Connie thought it was amazing. Steven thought it was creepy. It was bathed in the light of a red star, permanently casting the world in warm, dim lighting. The oddness continued with long waves of UVA light, white clothes and teeth glowing just a bit purple. Flora responded the same - taking advantage of the odd lighting as flowers of neon orange, white, pink and purple.

The majority of the plants were mostly fern-like, short scrubs with the occasional tree jutting up eight or nine feet above. All the leaves were broad and flat, soaking up what precious sunlight there was. They looked so drab in the light, greens so dark and flat as to look gray - though when they took their phones from their pocket and shined white light on them they could see the same, vibrant green they knew so well from Earth.

Steven never liked how the Outpost made everything look so different.

At least Lars was the same - thriving like always. No captain’s uniform today, majestic cape put away in exchange for comfy blue jeans and a faded black band t-shirt. Steven guessed it was black and blue, at least. It was hard to tell in the light. The older boy grinned as he held out his hand to help Steven up. “Welcome to the Outpost. I think you might have heard of this one before? They were thinking about building you a statue.”

“Oh, geez.” Steven groaned as their hands clasped together, a rough tug from Lars getting him upright. “Please tell me they didn’t actually build a statue.”

“No.” Lars laughed, holding his hand out to Connie. “They just - fuck!”

Both of Connie’s hands seized his, tugging hard and rolling back. Her feet came up, catching Lars in the belly and pushing, flipping so he landed in the red dirt behind her flat on his back. Connie’s giggle broke through Steven’s brief panic, coupled with a triumphant cry of, “You’re so _rusty!_ ”

Lars rolled onto his knees, snagging a handful of her hair to very gently shake. Steven couldn’t tell if he was grimacing, smiling, or some weird mix of the two. His voice was just as confusing, somewhere between annoyed and thrilled. “I’m not! I just didn’t think you’d throw me before you said hello.”

“Mmm, sounds like a lot of words to explain being rusty.” She grinned, slapping his hand away.

He got to his feet, dusting himself off. “That’s fine. You can get up on your own.”

She gasped. “Jerk! Help me up!”

“ _I’m_ the jerk?” he squawked. “You flipped me!”

“As a _hello_ ,” she argued, holding out her hands and making grabbing motions. “Come on. What’s the chance I’ll do it twice?”

“One hundred percent.”

She shot him finger guns. “I like those odds for you.”

He rolled his eyes and held out his hand, feet braced, but Connie ignored it to hop to her feet with another giddy giggle. “So you’re not fighting anymore? Do you practice? What’d I teach you all that stuff for if you don’t bother practicing? You know Rutile would be a good partner for you, and you could-”

“Hold on.” Steven laughed a little, holding up his hands. “Uh, I knew you guys were friends but I didn’t know you guys were _this_ close.”

Lars swung his arm across Connie’s collarbone, holding her steady as she squealed and he wildly mussed up her hair. “Yeah. Connie gave me hand to hand lessons on and off after the whole jungle moon thing. Helped out in the bakery too.”

“For a fee!” she cried, squirming out of his grip with a grin. “And a resume booster for college. Thanks, by the way. I’m apparently a _prime_ candidate.”

“Doubt it.” He shrugged, slipping his hands in his pockets and turning away from the ferny growth towards the settlement ahead. Neon buildings clashed against one another, all simple rectangles, but built-in spiraling, twisting roads as gems flexed their newfound creativity. “Stick close, guys. It’s gotten a little wild here.”

Connie followed along eagerly, and, after a moment of hesitation, Steven did as well. Lars and Connie bickered as they went - his acerbic sarcasm playing easily off her sassier wit. He tucked his hands in his jacket pockets, doing his best not to feel left out. Doing his best not to feel out of control and ignorant and wrong. He wanted Connie to have friends.

Just… if he had managed to miss her and Lars getting close, what else hadn’t he noticed?

He was stopped by an Amethyst, as tall as him and oddly colored deep, dark purple in the lighting. She didn’t salute, but she still said, “Steven Diamond! It’s me! QX13! How do you like the changes we made to the place?”

He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. The title grated on him, even without all the saluting and solemn order that used to come with it. He corrected, “Uh, just Steven, thanks. But it looks great! You guys really livened up the place.”

“Just like you asked!” She beamed and winked. She stepped closer to him, and Steven took a couple nervous steps back. “We’re doing pretty good at this whole free gems thing, don’t you think?”

Lars snorted. “Yeah. You barely even need that ‘thinking for yourself’ class. The way you’re all over Steven Diamond really shows off how independent you are.”

Connie gently punched Lars’s shoulder, but neither he nor the Amethyst seemed to notice much. She laughed, talking eagerly about how they’d built the settlement, constantly looking for Steven’s approval and puffing up her chest each time he gave it. Her little brags about being creative, about finding her own path, about learning who she wanted to be (a brawler, surprise surprise), all filled him with that now familiar sense of discomfort and longing, trying to figure out how to help just a little more.

Steven tried his best to manage the laughter too as they moved through the settlement. It was hard with his attention so split, worried about being split from Lars even for a moment and lost in the labyrinth of neon. Lars apparently knew exactly where the Off-Colors were, somehow finding his way through the unmarked city like he’d lived there all his life. In the meanwhile, they bumped into gem after gem eager to impress their not-Diamond.

Thankfully, there was his ever-loving girlfriend, smiling and sweetening everyone away. “Oh, gees, we’re on a time crunch. Could we maybe talk later?” and “That’s so interesting! Steven needs to talk to Captain Lars about a fuel situation, do you think you could tell me more about it?” and “Gees, all this UV can really give our organic brains some trouble. We really can’t stay long.” Lie after effortless lie, moving on without a single worry or concern.

Steven squirmed at it, even though it wasn’t fair. How many times had Connie’s knack for lying slipped them out of danger when they ran around the galaxy, liberating planets as they went? How many times had her lies let them slip away from the gems, to chat privately, to keep him out of trouble? She lied to help him. He didn’t mind before.

Why did he mind so much now?

They tucked away into a bright orange house, and Connie eagerly talked with the Rutile twins about gravity generators and atmosphere alterers and the kind of science talk that made his eyes glaze over with disinterest. Instead, he sat with Rhodonite, saying with a sigh, “You know, as much as I love seeing gem settlements, it still feels so weird how little gems change.”

She shrugged and smiled. “You gave them the freedom to choose. Even if they choose to keep doing the same thing, that’s better than how they were living before. And we don’t have to run around worrying about being shattered anymore.”

“I know.” He frowned, dropping his head. He sat down in the red dust of the hut, rust color poofing up in a cloud around him. “Just feels like I could do a lot more. But maybe I’m going crazy trying to help everyone again.”

“Listen, Steven,” Lars said. He gave the younger boy’s knee a slap. “There’s a lot of cool stuff about being a gem, okay? You get all these superpowers. You get to fuse. You can basically live as long as you want and throw yourself into a volcano when you get bored. You just…”

Steven arched an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Man, they’re just…” He gestured at Rhodonite, who waved in return. Lars grinned. “They don’t change. They don’t _like_ changing. It’s not fun, you know? It’s not natural. You and me and Connie change from everything, but gems don’t. They’re robots, man. I love my crew, and they’re people, but they’re, you know… robot people.”

Steven cringed. “Yeah.”

Lars slapped Steven’s knee again, harder this time. “Stop it! They’re not fucking sad about it, okay? It’s just the way they are. And them being that way is great! You changed an entire empire in two years! Everyone’s chill! You get to go live a normal human life and not have this shit constantly come down on you.”

He groaned, sweeping a hand through his hair as stress and guilt mounted. “Yeah. I know. I cleaned up Mom’s mistakes. Bluebird hit us a little while ago and we cleaned that up, so my mistakes are finished too. Smooth, human sailing from here on out.”

Lars blinked. “Bluebird? The murder roach that tried to kill you, like, five times?”

“Yeah. She’s finished.” Steven shrugged, thinking back to texts and photos from the gems to let him know the bubbles had been received and were being taken care of. “Bubbled and sent home. The gems will keep her components off us from now on. Ruby nearly took out a whole grocery store and Aquamarine beat Connie up really bad.”

“Seriously?” His eyes widened. “Aqua’s that good?”

“No! She was armed and Connie wasn’t,” Steven explained with a laugh. Lars’s expression flickered - confusion, frustration - and the younger boy rushed to explain, “But with a staff with a disruptor on it? It’s not like Connie could poof.”

“You let her run off without a weapon?” Lars said, leaning forward. “What’s wrong with you? She could’ve gotten killed!”

“It’s Connie!” Steven said. He could feel himself starting to frown now, pushing to his feet, leaning into a defensive stance. Lars matched him. “She wasn’t gonna get taken about by _Aquamarine_.”

Rhodonite laughed nervously from her spot in the dust. “Okay, guys, maybe we should-”

“Yeah, it’s Connie! Your human friend? Not a gem? Doesn’t poof? Just _dies_?” Lars’s voice kept rising, shouting now.

Connie’s laugh mimicked Rhodonite’s as she came to stand between the two of them. Her hands came up, fingers spread wide over her palms, making little calming motions as she looked back and forth between the two. “We don’t need to fight. I’m fine.”

Steven’s fists clenched at his side. “I respect her! She knows how to take care of herself! I’m not gonna keep her bubbled away when she wants to be-”

“I’m not saying bubble but you let her run off on her-”

“I don’t let her do anything! She’s her-”

“-own without a weapon! Maybe you should pay atten-”

“Maybe you should mind your own business!” Steven shouted. He was sure his cheeks were flushing pink. Could Lars tell in this light? Could Connie? He pushed on without cooling off. “I took care of her! I healed her! I trusted her! Why are you being a jerk?”

“Because you’re _not_ taking care of her!” Lars shouted, Connie’s eyes going wide as the older boy gestured to her. “Sometimes you have to tell people to shut the fuck up and put your foot down and call them out on their bullshit! You can’t sugarcoat everything!”

He kept the power roped in, always kept the power roped in now, even as his temper rose and the pink flush was surely spreading. Nothing destructive, nothing violent as he snarled, “I’m not!”

“She fought a gem barehanded!” he bellowed back. “Are you that out of practice fixing everyone’s fucking problems that you can’t see a disaster right in front of you?”

Connie twisted to face the taller boy, glaring fiercely. “You don’t talk to him like that.”

He glared right back, happy to turn his disappointment on her instead of Steven. “Why didn’t you call Lion?”

“I was busy.” Her voice was emotionless. “You can’t talk to Ste-”

“Lion can give you your sword.” Lars jabbed her in the chest with each word. “Stupid. Dangerous. _Rusty_. Why the fuck didn’t you ask for help?”

“I’m not doing this in front of Steven,” Connie hissed. “I’m not one of your crewmembers. If you wanna do this, do it in private.”

“Fine. Let’s go have a chat.” Lars turned on his heel, gesturing with two fingers. “Come on, Paddy. We’re gonna go for a hike.”

“You don’t need to bring-” Connie started, but a sharp look from Lars killed the words in her throat, and she followed without another sound.

Steven watched them go, feeling oddly small and empty and alone. He mumbled to Rhodonite, “I don’t get why he’d bring Paddy. Isn’t it dangerous out there?”

Rhodonite laughed, extremely uncomfortable. Not that she ever seemed truly comfortable, but the fight seemed to have driven her anxiety to new heights. “You really don’t know?”

Steven shook his head slowly. “No. Seems like she’d be safer with all of you.”

“Padparadscha can be a little slow sometimes,” she said, looking at the door where the two had left. “But nothing gets past her. Doesn’t matter how slick you are. Paddy catches every lie.”

He sank back to the dirt, curling his knees to his chest as he pulled out his phone from his pocket, scrolling back and back and back through weeks of texts. And there they were, the first words that had made his stomach clench with that awful, need-to-help feeling he’d been fighting all along.

 _"The dean just wanted to check that my essay about the gems wasn't a lie,_ ” she had typed. _“Everything's fine."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter should be the last really painful chapter, with everything being healing from there on out! I think I'll be able to get it out on Monday, but I don't want to say for sure.
> 
> Thank you guys!


	13. Exposed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie and Lars have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art from magnificent [Loveluckylost on Tumblr!](https://loveluckylost.tumblr.com/)  
> Art from the wonderful! [Suf-fering on Tumblr!](suf-fering.tumblr.com)  
> And yet more art from the glorious [Arcadediamond!](https://arcadediamond.tumblr.com/)

“Lars is going to ask me to come as part of his clever plan,” Padparadscha said as she walked beside Connie. She could trip over rocks or shrubs. Her vision looking into the past was a hassle when it came to looking into the present. It was a testament to how much Lars had changed that he walked ahead, lazily kicking aside rocks and creating a path for his friend. Every motion was so casual, almost subconscious from months of practice.

Paddy needed help and Lars gave it - not a word was passed between them, no apologies or worries over being a burden, and Connie couldn’t help but feel envious. That was how it had been with her and Steven when they had fought together. Things had flowed as effortlessly as a fountain.

“You shouldn’t have said that to Steven,” Connie mumbled as they stepped into shrubs and dust. Rust puffed up around her ankles with every shuffling step, dragging her feet as she followed. Her arms crossed over her chest. “Aquamarine wasn’t that dangerous. She didn’t have her wand.”

“What’d he heal, then?”

“Some bruises,” Connie said, which wasn’t really a lie. She kept her voice even, she tried not to think too hard about the half-truth or the way she delivered it. Lying had come easy to her for the longest time, and it wasn’t any different in front of Lars.

He said nothing for a bit, until Paddy said, “Connie is going to leave out more serious injuries to protect Steven.”

She took a frustrated breath, fingers digging into her upper arm. “Really catches everything, huh?”

“She does,” he said, voice curt and short as he turned to her. His expression was stern, commanding - all captain and none of the obnoxious boy who had once made faces at her through a bubble. “So? What was the damage? Don’t waste our time. Just be honest.”

She looked away, wincing at the memory of pain still bright in her mind. “Broken collarbone. She got a lucky hit.”

Lars swore, running a hand through his hair as he turned away from her. Distress. Frustration. Connie soothed herself with the assurance that he couldn’t keep his composure as well as she could as his voice bled worry all over the conversation. “Connie, how could you run after her alone? After _everything_ she did to us, how could you not grab Lion? Grab your sword?”

“I took her barehanded.” She rolled her shoulders with a little smirk.

“That’s not an excuse! You’re not this stupid!” He turned back around and she thought that he must be getting dizzy from all that spinning as he put his hands on her shoulders. “You have to talk to someone. I don’t know what’s going on in your life, but if you’re so messed up you don’t even think to grab your sword when a gem is on you, I… Come on, Maheswaran. What’s _wrong_ with you?”

She muttered, dropping her eyes. He wasn’t worth looking at all emotional and messy. “I hung up my sword.”

“What?”

“I put it away,” she said simply. “After Spinel. We were done, weren’t we? I haven’t touched my sword in months. When I practiced, it was all dull blades, just to keep in shape. With all the gem stuff. Steven wanted to go back to his human life and normal humans don’t have swords, Lars.”

“You’re not a normal human.” He laughed, disbelieving.

It sounded mocking. Condescending. Jerk. Asshole. She slapped his hands off, glaring at him with everything she had. “Yes, I am! Just because you… you…” She gave his shoulders a shove, satisfied with watching him stumble a step back. “What are you doing, huh? Running off to space? You just want me to be like you! Pretending to be a gem!”

Lars blinked, too confused to even scoff. “What are you talking about?”

“I-is that what you tell yourself out here?” she said, feeling the words coming out more and more aggressively, more and more frantic. “You’re pretending you’re not human? Like you can’t fit in? You could if you wanted to! You had a successful bakery! You had a great life!”

“Bakeries aren’t as great to run as you think.”

“I know what running a bakery is like! I worked for you, so I know!” she snarled. “You could have put all this stuff behind you and lived normally and then you… you just ran off to space? Hopping from planet to planet, doing whatever you want, no responsibilities? What’s _my_ problem? What’s _your_ problem?”

“You think going off to space is a problem?” He snorted and rolled his eyes. “It was the _solution_ . Connie, I don’t know what world you live in where I’m just some normal guy. I don’t need to _eat_ . I don’t need to sleep. I can make portals and walk on water. There’s another dimension in my _hair_ where I can store shit.”

Paddy mumbled beside them, “I predict that Lars and Connie are going to start fighting.”

“So?” Connie snapped, ignoring Paddy. She was cute. She was sweet. She didn’t _matter_ right now when Lars was here, calling himself inhuman. Calling her inhuman. She shoved his shoulders again. “Just don’t do it! Do it in private! I don’t run around showing off my sword all the time! Or being Stevonnie! Until Steven showed up at the roller rink no one even _knew_ that I could fuse! You just keep it separate!”

“Okay, so you just had friends who never knew about the most important relationship in your life?” He gave one of her shoulders a little shove in return, more pushing her out of his space than anything else as he said, “Really cool. Really healthy.”

“No! Stop twisting it!” Connie shook her head. “They knew about my relationship with Steven! I just left out the magic stuff!”

“Then they didn’t fucking _know_ , Connie!” he shouted. “Oh, yeah, my friends know all about my relationship with Sadie aside from the fact that I hide the fact that we fuck all the time and act like we’re just friends. Yeah, totally great. Won’t bite you in the ass.”

Her thoughts whirled. So what? So what if she’d just kept her mouth shut? Her friends didn’t need to know that when Steven was worried about her his kisses sparkled against her lips and sent soda pop bubbles down her spine. Her friends didn’t need to know that she could write gem glyph as fluently as English. Her friends didn’t need to know that, occasionally, she became a giant enby made of light and it was safe and right and felt like home and love. Because if they did know, they might not think she was normal. They might think she was kind of weird. Again.

It didn’t hurt. It didn’t matter.

“You couldn’t handle the bakery!” she shouted, because she didn’t want to talk about anything else. She didn’t want to think about it. “You just wanna be a gem! You don’t know how to be human! I do!”

He took a deep breath, growling as he shoved his hands in his pockets, and the tension immediately eased from hitting a weak point. “Okay. Alright. Let’s calm down. From the top, okay? I went home, and I opened a bakery, and I lived out the dream I thought I had.”

“Good,” Connie muttered. “You should have stayed there.”

“It was good,” he agreed, ignoring the second half. “After everything I went through, I needed the break. It was a lot of hard work, but I never felt scared for my life when I got up at four in the morning to prep and bake. I’m glad I took the time to try to be normal. I’m glad that I took a breather to figure myself out.”

“You were happy and you left because-”

He sighed, holding up a hand to stop her. “Because it wasn’t what I wanted anymore. Not after everything I went through.”

Paddy reached out to give Lars’s hand a squeeze, and he returned it with a little smile while she spoke. “We’re glad you took the time to be normal too. You came back to us so much stronger.”

“It was your dream,” Connie whispered.

“Yeah, and, I mean, it was really cool that I got to live it. Not a lot of people get to run a successful bakery.” He dropped Paddy’s hand and ran a hand down his face. “The Lars that Aquamarine captured and the Lars that landed in Beach City weren’t the same person. People change.” 

“And abandon everything they were?” Connie shot back.

“Are you still the girl I met in the bubble?” he asked, and it hung silently in the air.

Yes and no. The girl she was before Steven never would have screamed at Lars. The girl she was before Steven would be awed by planets, would be terrified of a long road trip alone with her boyfriend, wouldn’t have dreamed of swinging a real sword and tackling an empire and being offered scholarships and begged to attend schools.

But the girl she was that first, fateful day in the bubble had known to bundle up worries and fears and trust in Steven, at least until it had reached a breaking point. The girl she was that day had been strategic and clever and booksmart, hadn’t she? And both that girl and the girl she was now were both human. And they were both normal, mostly. Even if they had a few quirks that other people didn’t understand. Was there that much of a difference in staring off into the distance, fantasizing about an action story before she had ever thought she could be in one, or getting lost in a memory she wished had never happened at all?

“Connie won’t know how to answer,” Padparadscha said.

Lars sighed again, shaking his head. “We’re not normal humans, but we’re humans. We change all the time. We change so much that we even change gems, and they really hate changing, Connie. It’s what we’re good at.”

“You make it sound like it was a good thing, but you changed so much your whole dream was… It was ruined before it even started!” she said, disgusted. As if she would throw her own goals of politics aside just because of some space adventure. Her dreams had gotten more practical, but they hadn’t changed. She knew herself. She knew what she wanted.

“Yeah.” He laughed as if it was nothing. “I guess. I mean, it’s not really a gem thing. Like, it is, because I’m with the gems, but it could’ve been anything, you know? If I got thrown into some community service program it could’ve done the same thing. The stuff you go through changes you. You can’t ignore it. You can’t run from it.”

“ _You_ can’t,” Connie retorted.

“Neither can you.” He looked back at her, gestured to her up and down. “The fight’s over. You put up your sword. You’ve still got the calluses on your hands, Connie. You’ve got the muscle for it. And you know what? You built all that muscle while you were growing. It changed the whole shape of you. You look like a fighter, and you’re always gonna.”

Why were her eyes burning? Why did it feel like a praise and a curse all at once? She liked being strong, didn’t she? She liked the shape of herself. She took a shuddering breath, and Paddy’s hand came to rest on her hip, her voice gentle but worried, “Connie just wants to have her gem life and her human life separate.”

“Why?” Lars asked, shaking his head. He spread his arms, gesturing to the dirt and trees around them and the stars overhead. “Look at what you get. You’re standing on another world, Connie. Why the fuck do you want to give it all up?”

“I have a plan,” she said, gritting her teeth. And it wasn’t _gems_. “I know who I’m gonna be. I know what I’m gonna do. I don’t care what happens. I don’t care what stupid gem shows up. I know who I am, Lars, and I’m gonna make everything happen. I’m gonna get into politics.”

He rolled his eyes. “Great. Because no one’s ever gonna bring up gem stuff and your borderline breaking the law, huh?”

“You’re like Steven with the stupid protein bars. I’m not a thief.” Connie snarled. “Everyone thinks I’m some kind of criminal. I know how to follow the law.”

“Oh yeah?” Lars asked with a sneer. “Because I’m pretty sure I remember you cruising around town in the Dondai as Stevonnie, and I’m _pretty_ sure there’s no law that says two underage kids can drive if they’re sharing a body.”

“Shut up!” she snapped. “You’re just-”

Paddy’s voice cut through the conversation, “Connie is going to lie about being a thief.”

The world went still.

“You _what_?” Lars whispered.

She bristled. “That’s her opinion! It wasn’t stealing, Lars. I put down money. There was a fight-”

“You _stole_?” She took a step back but her grabbed her arm, dragging her close.

Connie grunted, trying to yank away. “It wasn’t stealing! There was a big fight and everything was crazy, so I put down some money instead of going through the checkout! That doesn’t count! I paid for it!”

Paddy took a couple nervous steps back from the scuffle. “Connie was going to steal even if she didn’t have the money.”

“You want to be a politician and you’re stealing? In a _grocery store_?” His face loomed close to hers, worried and angry and hissing, “Connie, you were probably on fucking camera. How fucking stupid-”

“Paddy’s wrong!” she cried, shoving at his hand. “It’s not stealing! I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t have the money!”

“What if it got _lost_?” he said, shaking her slightly. “What if someone else took the cash off the shelf? Do you remember what I told you about Andy’s Games?”

Padparadascha murmured, “Connie is going to lie again.”

“Shut _up_ , Paddy!” Connie covered her face, with her free hand shame and tears burning at her eyes. “It’s not the same thing! I paid for it, and I needed it. It’s not like games! You can steal food if you really need it. You can-”

“Connie, I got banned for life from that games store,” he said, his voice dropped low and nervous. “I hung out with some assholes and I wanted to be cool, and I got so much shit on my record, and the stuff that stays the most is stealing. The people who run those places have really good lawyers. They’ll keep track of you, wait until you’ve stolen enough shit so it’s not a misdemeanor and it’s a-”

“I _know_ ,” she said, voice cracking. “I’m not gonna do it again! It was just-”

Again, Paddy murmured, “Connie didn’t need the food.” Her voice hesitated filled with confusion, “She did need the food? She felt like she needed it, but she knew she didn’t. I… I don’t understand what I’m predicting.”

“It’s fine,” Connie said, her voice almost pleading, her voice cracking. “It was one time for a good reason, Lars. I’m not gonna do it-”

“You _can’t_ do this,” he insisted, almost pleading back. “Why would you steal? Are your parents not giving you enough cash? Are you freaking out? Connie, we can get in the Sun Incinerator right now and go grab a handful of gold from an asteroid. You don’t need to take anything.”

“It’s not the money. I _paid_ . I said I paid!” she insisted. “Steven didn’t want me to take them because he thought we had enough bars, but we _didn’t_ , Lars.”

He dropped her arm, taking a step back. “Stars, Connie, are you hoarding food? Is that why you took home all the failures at the bakery? I thought you said you shared them.”

“I did!” she said, heart pounding, head spinning. She shook her head, trying not to think of her mother’s frustrated face as she brought home too much bread to eat, pastries they could never finish, food that went straight into the trash. But it was there in the house when she needed it so did it matter? She didn’t need it, but she did. It was harder to breathe.

“Connie lied about the bakery, too,” Paddy said softly. “So many lies. She’s so scared.”

Lars looked scared. Worried. Like she was some pitiful thing when all she was doing was keeping things safe and secure and it all would have gone in the trash anyway. She barely held back a scream, and snapped instead, “I was planning ahead! I was making sure things would be okay and he didn’t get it. He doesn’t understand how to take care of himself. He doesn’t plan for everything.”

Lars reached out for her hand with one of his. "You can't always plan your whole life, Connie." He gestured to himself - his face, his hair. Even in alien lighting, his complexion was off, strange, a contrast to the normal human tones of her own. "Sometimes stuff just happens."

She clenched her fists, ripping away. "To _you_! Sometimes stuff just happens to you, but it doesn't happen to me!”

“It happens to _everyone_ ,” Lars insisted. “Was getting your collar bone broken part of the plan? Stealing when you’re trying to get into politics?”

“Shut up!” she snapped. “One time! One time with Aquamarine and it’s never gonna happen again! You messed up worse! You got hit! Do you know how many fights I was in? How careful I was? I'm not like _you_! It’s just the one time!"

Lars held up his hands nervously. "Connie, calm down. You-"

"No! I won't calm down!" she shouted. "You mess up! I don't! I never mess up - not ever! I don't make mistakes and I don't get killed! I know who I want to be! I know what I want to do! I know who I am! And I did all of it by myself!"

"Connie, you-"

"No one is _ever_ going to give you a leg up!” Her voice came out as a furious scream. “You have to work for _everything!_ I know how to take care of myself! I learned how to cook and clean and study and everything by _myself_!”

“What are you talking about?” He blinked. “Your parents-”

“You think they were _around_ ?” she said, scoffing, laughing. “Are you stupid? You think the kid who got to stay out and sneak into raves and _sleep over_ at Steven’s house at _twelve_ had parents who had time? I did it! I do everything!

She laughed, running a hand through her hair. “I mean, aside from Steven. I let him take the lead. He had so many great ideas. L-like the swordfighting! That was his idea, but I still chose to do it! I got all beat up and I always came back no matter how bad it hurt! I went with Steven on everything I could - I was there for him every time when no one else was, and I never messed up! Not once!”

The laughter kept coming, almost manic now. She tried to rein it in, but every time she caught her breath it came out in a giggle or a word. “I couldn’t have! I-if I’d messed up I’d be like you, right? It would’ve been so easy. I could have died. The very first day I met Steven I could have died like five times and it never stopped. I loved it. I loved almost dying. Isn’t that crazy? I thought it was so cool that I was always in danger.”

Lars walked towards her slowly, hands still up. “Connie, I need you to take a deep breath.”

“No!” she shouted, stumbling back. “No! I don’t need to! Don’t you pretend you’re gonna do something! Don’t you pretend you’re gonna help! You’re all the same! You all act like you’re gonna do something but then it’s just me and Steven, locked up in some horrible room and dying and starving and being told that we’re awful and wrong!

"Steven and I are the only ones who ever do anything! And he's taking a break, which he deserves, so I'm the only one who can fix things! Everyone else just stands around feeling sorry for themselves and looking stupid! So I’m gonna be human! I’m never gonna look at gems or magic again! I’m gonna get into politics and I’m gonna fix the stupid human world because saving one species isn’t enough for _anyone_!"

She breathed heavy in the dusty air, and after a moment of silence Paddy said, “She’s telling the truth this time.”

Connie closed her eyes, sinking down into the knees into the dirt. Her hand came to her forehead, her voice cracked, “This time. For once. Like pulling teeth. I’m a liar and a failure. I’m a thief. I thought I could handle it all and I can’t. This is supposed to be a break and I’m worse than ever. I can’t even manage to relax right. I’m even ruining your visit with Steven. I...” Her fingers clenched her hair in fistfuls and she gasped, “How am I this big of a fuck up?”

She wasn’t Steven. There was no magic way to sweep out the pain. There was no warped form in a gushing mess of skin and bone. There was no shield, no explosion, no illusions or freezing of time. It would have felt better, more cathartic, if her emotions could whip out from her, uncontrolled and terrifying, as big as she felt they were. 

There was only quiet in a big, foreign place. There was only wind softly rustling woody plants. There was a setting sun, making everything darker, grayer, making the neon glow brighter as the dusky leaves faded into darkness. Spots of light in an empty place, which felt like it was growing emptier by the moment. Stars up in the sky, impossibly far to reach, with an expanse of empty blackness between them.

Connie wished for a moment to be there instead, to be surrounded by the empty and black. To not have to think of the shame and humiliation and guilt burning up her spine, and instead submerge into cold, dark nothingness. 

Lars sounded confused, clearing his throat awkwardly. “You know you need to go get help, right? And, uh, like… that’s fine? Therapy’s pretty sweet.”

She stared at him, disbelieving, waiting for anger. Waiting for an argument. Waiting for dismissal. He just looked back, eyes full of concern, face in a slight smile of awkward humor trying to lighten the mood. She blinked. “Wh-what?”

“I, uh… I don’t think I can handle this.” He laughed awkwardly and moved his hand back and forth between the two of them. “I’m not good at this? Connie, I don’t know, like, the medical words. This is probably the wrong thing to say but, like… I think all this stuff has you kind of fucked up?” Lars stopped himself with a much more nervous laugh, quickly blurting, “I-I mean, I know I was fucked up by dying. Went to a few counseling sessions. Uh, but, like… I don’t know. I’m more into gems than people now, but it sounds like you’re just… a wreck about everything.”

She laughed, her heart pounding, ringing in her ears. That wasn’t an option. He shouldn’t have even said it. More laughter came out, still unhinged and hysterical like before. “No! I’m not going to _therapy_ . To go to therapy, I’d have to tell my parents _everything_ , and that’s not happening.”

His mouth fell open. “Holy shit, they don’t know-”

She cut him off with a wave of her hands. “I get it! No more lies. I need to start coming clean. But even if I did, I… what’s a therapist even going to do? And I, I mean, I’m functioning for the most part. You go to therapy when you’re not functioning, but I’ve got this covered.”

“You’re stealing.”

“I’ve got the bars so I’m not gonna steal anymore,” Connie explained hurriedly. “I’m okay as long as I have enough! I don’t hoard loads of food or let it go bad! And, yes, I’ve had a bunch of panic attacks, and maybe, I don’t know, like some really mild dissociation stuff? But I looked up some stuff online and I’m really managing it. Plus, you know, Garnet’s advice.”

He cocked his head, coming to sit beside her. “Garnet’s advice?”

“Yeah! She gave us some tips, right?” Connie said, her hands moving dynamically as she talked, turning and rolling in the air. “So I do mindfulness. I do meditation. I know that when something feels bad, you have to think about it. You can’t move on if you don’t think about it.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’ve been thinking about it,” he said, and Paddy leaned over to whisper softly in his ear. He nodded, mouthing _I know_.

“No. Because I did already,” Connie explained, her face screwing up with frustration. “I thought about it all the time and I… I kept waiting, Lars. I kept thinking it’d stop hurting, like it was supposed to. It was supposed to get better.” Her hands stilled and she stared down at her open palms, baffled. “What are you supposed to do when it hurts no matter how much you think about it? I did everything I was supposed to. I did everything right. So why isn’t it better?”

“Same reason why Steven isn’t better,” Lars said. “You have to-”

“That’s different!” Connie said, looking at him sharply. “With everything Steven went through, it changed his brain. It changed who he is! He needs help.”

“We already talked about how much you changed, so why don’t you need help?” he challenged. She swallowed, searching for an answer, but every response in her mouth was hushed, held back with the knowledge that Paddy was there and watching. “If you know you’re not getting better on your own, why don’t you talk to someone? Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you think you’re some kind of monster too?”

“No! I…” Connie’s mouth worked, her hands worked. How to say it? How to explain? Steven went through so much. Steven had been so hurt. Steven didn’t have a stable home, or a human experience. She wasn’t like him. Nobody thought she was perfect. She never felt like a monster. She was a failure. A disaster. Steven could have help, and she couldn’t because, well… because…

“Connie won’t be able to say that Steven earned help and she didn’t,” Paddy said, making a sad little sound. “Oh, dear.”

“So, uh…” Another awkward laugh. “You saved the gempire and you still don’t deserve a therapist?”

“Because Steven had it worse,” she said, the words coming out before she could think of them. Lars raised an eyebrow, and Connie cringed. “I… I can’t feel like I earned any of this when I know how much more Steven suffered. I can’t feel like I deserve it when I feel like I did so much less, and he did most of it better than I did anyway.”

“Yeah.” He nudged her lightly. “Maybe you should rethink that. Who had the worst time as a child soldier isn’t really one of those things you wanna compete over, you know? You’re not about to tell me I’m not allowed to be sad about dying because you went through a bunch more near-death stuff, right?”

“No!” she cried, horrified. “Never!”

“And Steven’s never gonna do that to you. You’re punishing yourself.” He put his hand on her head, the wild hair mussing before a gentle ruffle now. “I know what it’s like to feel like… like you’re just not good enough. Like you can’t do anything right. Like everyone’s gonna leave you to die in a ditch because it’s what you deserve, you know? Is that how you feel?”

Her hand rested over her heart, her eyes screwing shut. “All the time.”

“Even when I was really shitty, I didn’t deserve that,” Lars said, dropping his arm to her shoulder. “And I was way more of a dick than you ever were. If I deserve help, you deserve help. You gotta get someone with a degree to help you through all this stuff.”

She imagined what Steven had told her about his therapy sessions. A peaceful room, or a peaceful person on the other side of a screen. A lot of tissues. A lot of talking. Peeling back layer after layer of pain, working through the core of each problem. She imagined sitting in that room, looking on a screen, and telling a stranger about the time she failed, and Pearl grabbed her, and she watched her best friend rip in two. She watched his body hit the floor.

Her stomach turned with horror as she said, “I feel like, if I open the box and let Gem Connie and Human Connie meet up, I’m never gonna untangle it. I thought I could just be Gem Connie again for him, but Human Connie keeps leaking in anyway. I can’t just… be what I need to be.”

Lars frowned. “What do you need to be?”

“His knight,” she said, without hesitation. “I’m supposed to protect him from everything. I’m supposed to go be successful in the human world, and protect him in the gem world. And now, I guess, I’m protecting him in the human world too, because he doesn’t really get it. I can’t tell him about my problems either.”

“You definitely-”

She shook her head. “No. Everyone put all their stuff on his shoulders. He had to help everyone he ever met, even me at the beginning. I can’t add to that anymore.”

“The people you’re talking about, the gems, the diamonds… They were his family,” Lars said softly. “Adults. I mean, they were kinda like parents and aunts, right? They were supposed to protect him. You’re his girlfriend. You guys are supposed to protect each other.”

“How?” she said with a laugh.

“You talk about the shitty stuff you’re feeling,” he said with a shrug. “Even when it’s scary. You let him help like he wants to without bitching about it. And, uh, I don’t know. You talk? You talk about everything. Aren’t you guys supposed to be good at that?”

“I just don’t want him to think he ruined my life, I guess,” Connie said softly. She leaned back on her hand and stared up at the endless sky. “How do I explain that it’s not his fault that I wanted to save the world? That’s it not his fault that all this bad stuff happened to us?”

“Say that, probably.” Lars said flatly, “And, also, that sounds like some therapy shit to me. Give Steven’s therapist a call. Like I said, man, I _really_ can’t help that much.”

She laughed, teeth flashing blue in the light. “I’ll start by telling Steven that he’s a fucking idiot and I love this weird planet.”

He grinned back. “Oh, yeah. Good opener.”

It wavered slightly as she looked up at him. “Lars? About all these planets, and exploring the stars, and your bakery… I...”

“Yeah?”

“I want to matter. I want to think I’m not pathetic, or a failure, or like I’m less cool or important or interesting than everyone else. I don’t want to be normal.” She took a long pause and confessed, “I just want to be okay.”

He hugged her tight, and she hugged him back, two not-quite-humans in the alien light of another world. And then the alien beside them, voice a little choked up, said, “Connie is going to feel like Lars did when he came back to us.”

“Yeah, Paddy,” Lars said, sounding a little choked up himself. “And one of these days we’re all gonna be alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, from here on out, I'm gonna go a bit slower! I'm switching to weekly updates to give me a break, so I'll see you guys on Monday, when Connie goes to talk to Steven, and they think about therapy.


	14. Murky Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie talks to Steven.

Connie did not want to talk on the eerily-lit planet, or in the neon building, or anywhere near the rest of Lars’s crew. Connie did not want to spend any more time under his and Paddy’s concerned gazes. Connie did not want Steven, who would inevitably turn that same gaze to her, to be surrounded by Lars and his crew in a place he didn’t even like while she bared her soul and confessed her lies.

So they wished them all goodbye and good luck and headed back to Earth. Out they tumbled from Lion’s mane, relieved that, in the few hours they’d left, their good boy had lingered by the car - and on the car, if the dented hood was any indication. Everything was tense and awkward as Steven grabbed a sort of suction cup from the truck, sticking it on and using his massive strength to effortlessly pop the metal back into place before turning to her.

“Everything’s better with a meal, right?” he asked with a little smile. “Let’s get a bite to eat.”

She smiled back, though it felt false and wrong. She answered in the affirmative, she thought, though the words felt a little disconnected to the rest of her. Lion’s muzzle pushed at her hands, his scratchy tongue beating back the odd surrealness that was creeping up on her, and Connie gratefully scratched his head before they hopped into the car. Lion was always there for her.

It took a while for the two of them to find a diner, even with a digital map stuck to Steven’s dash. Bayou was, well, full of bayous. Swamps lingered around them, heavy and dark in the evening light. They dove over rumbling bridges, columns jutting up from murky water to give cars a chance to move through the inhospitable place. They were deep in the south now, so far that driving further would make the roads vanish into dirt and swamp, into a place where only boats could slink through the water and whatever ancient monsters lurked beneath.

She had traveled before. Her childhood had been a series of one home to the next, too fast to make friends or develop social skills, but even then none of her travels has taken her into swampland. That was something reserved for books and movies. Muddy waters rested still beneath the car, and she imagined muddy, seizing hands the size of the Dondai reaching up to drag them down into the darkness.

The bright and cheery chiptune that bopped from the car’s speakers was a nightmare, creating a dissonance that ripped at Connie’s mind. It felt like the wrong soundtrack to the movie they had found themselves stuck in - not the moody, atmospheric, chocolatey tones of drama, but the chirping, dinging sounds she associated with afternoons with him. She leaned her forehead against the window as she sunk into the haze of surrealness, cheer and misery in equal measure.

She tried not to think about a similar feeling the night Steven returned from Homeworld, standing on the beach with his smile and his laugh and his “Everything’s fine!” She focused on the water and remembered how it felt to breathe in and feel brine scorch down her throat. She wondered if the murky water would taste as dark and old as it smelled as they scrambled around the car, watching brown pour through the cracks as the light faded quickly.

The second the car came to a stop and she pushed herself out of it, warm pink weight pushed her back against the door. A rough tongue across her hand, the gentle squeeze of strong molars pinching at her skin making her gasp as the sheen of wrongness slipped away from the world, back into the heavy weight of reality.

“Lion!” Steven scolded, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“No!” she said, her arms wrapping around Lion’s head. “No, it’s okay! He does it sometimes. It doesn’t hurt. He just knows I’m sad, Steven, that’s all. He comes around whenever I’m feeling upset. He…”

How was she supposed to explain?  _ I daydream, Steven _ , she could try.  _ I just think about all kinds of things, and it’s easier than real life, but sometimes I don’t know how to come back. Lion can feel it, I think _ . And he’d stare at her like she was crazy, or he’d have his eyes full of pity, and she’d be so mud and hurt she’d crumple to the found and melt into the mud that loomed beneath every dry patch of dirt.

Steven hesitated, frowning a little, but nodded. Time flickered a little, despite Lion’s patient licks. They couldn’t get into the diner because their good boy was being so bad, refusing to leave Connie alone. He brought her out a menu, she ordered, Steven grabbed the food and they looked into the swampy, draping treeline. ( _ We could talk in private there?  _ Yeah.  _ And split a milkshake. I got mint chocolate chip.  _ You’re the best, Steven.  _ No, you’re the best! _ )

She followed him over the boardwalk and stretched the finger on each hand slowly, slowly, until the ache of flexed muscles and odd tingle of overstretched skin hand her grounded and clear headed again to dig into diner food. They sat side by side on a bench, surrounded by trees, dark water, and their ever present companion.

“Did you get him something?” Connie asked, pointing. Lion’s nose came to softly boop her finger before his head dropped back down. Her heart swelled and her throat ached for a moment with adoration and love. “I always try to buy him a treat.”

“I’ll throw him some jerky when we get back to the car.” Steven held out the milkshake with a little smile, green and black like her view of the landscape, though his cup was all vibrant pastels. “I’ll tell you what - you tell me everything you think I need to hear, and I’ll be quiet until you’re done. Then we can talk about it.”

Her fingers covered his, looking hard into his eyes. She took a deep breath, feeling a monster of dripping, rotting fish and rancid mold rise up behind her and breathe down her neck. “I stole the protein bars,” she said. “I lied to your face.”

Connie waited for hurt, for betrayal, but Steven just smiled a little. “I lied to yours too. What matters is we’re being honest now, right?”

She let out a single laugh, taking the milkshake from him. It rested in her lap with her eyes, everything impossibly nice and calm and  _ right _ for once in their war-torn lives. “Stars, Steven. I could never deserve you.”

And they spoke. It came out easier with him compared to Lars, her thoughts a little more in order compared to the first vent. It was simple, really, now that she’d said it the first time: The stuff that they grew up with was hard. She didn’t like thinking about it. She’d tried to keep things organized, to keep things separate, but things always bled together. She needed to have food on hand, but Steven had made her feel so awful and wrong about it that she’d stolen - even if she put the money down. But even then, she had thought of it as something for him. She talked about her desire to be strong for him, for the world, and to do what needed to be done.

The dregs of her milkshake were melting by the time she confessed, “I feel like I’m supposed to protect you all the time, but I don’t think I’ve been a really great protector lately.”

“I get the other stuff,” Steven said, leaning back on the bench with a sigh. “All the gem war stuff was really hard. But I don’t know what you could be doing a bad job at now.” He winced and rocked forward again, blurting, “I-I mean, I get the feeling of wanting to protect people, right? Or feeling like you’re gonna die all the time? But there’s nothing to protect me from, so how could you be doing a bad job?”

Her brows came together. “We just fought Bluebird.”

“Oh!” He looked relieved. “So it’s all about her. Well, she’s-”

“Not just her. It’s about everyone. Anyone.” Connie turned to him more fully, her hands absently packing away the remains of her meal and his into the paper bag. “Of course I feel like I’m gonna die all the time! A gem could show up at any time and take me out, or try to kill you. What if they see me as a weak point and try to kidnap me?”

“Why would a gem do that?” he asked, almost laughing.

“To get to you!” she cried, voice suddenly flaring up. He wasn’t allowed to laugh, wasn’t allowed to tease, wasn’t allowed to think  _ anything _ was ridiculous when she’d been so serious for him. “As revenge! Destroying the empire!”

Steven shook his head, the smile gone as fast as it came, much to her relief. He looked confused now, concerned, but whatever nerves had made the giggle in his voice seemed to drop away. “Connie, nothing’s coming. Gems aren’t like people. They don’t change like we do. It’s really slow. It’s really painful. Bluebird came to me because they were mad at me, personally, for what I did to them. Spinel came because of my mom.”

“So you know-” she began.

“But I talked to the Diamonds. I chased down the people my mom hurt, and there’s no more loose ends. I chased down  _ my _ loose ends. It’s over.”

Steven leaned forward, and the smell of him was so strong for a moment the stagnant water scent fell away. He was too many things to handle, a skin care routine and a hair care routine that all blended into something soft and lovely she associated with him being clean, fresh out of the shower. The smell of his perfume, the intense citrus smell when he first applied in the mornings faded into dark, heavy sweetness as the sun moved lower in the sky.

Connie shook her head, thought she felt herself leaning forward too - aching for the warmth of him, the promised comfort. Her words came out choppy, disjointed, her grasp on reality tied to the grounding feel of the man beside her. “Steven, I know that stuff, I just… I know when bad things are coming. I can feel it. And I can just… I know none of this is over. I know it’s not done. Bluebird and Spinel were signs that it’s coming back, that’s it’s not done, that it’s… it’s…”

His arms wrapped around her, and against his sturdiness she was suddenly aware of her own trembling. His voice was soft in her ear, choked with the emotion she was doing her best to hold back. “I feel it too. You get scared, or you get mad, or you feel like you’re in a fight, so that’s gotta mean that something’s wrong and something’s bad coming. There was always something bad coming before.”

Steven’s voice grew tighter, higher as he pushed on, “But that’s the thing, Connie. You did the research with me. You helped me through it. We looked into everything, and there’s  _ nothing _ left. You know it’s over. You saw it yourself.” Steven gave her a squeeze as his voice cracked. “I know it doesn’t ever feel like it’s gonna end, because I feel it too and I…”

She let her wrappers fall to the floor, hugging him back as tight as she could. Because she knew how it didn’t matter. In the months that followed Spinel, in the months that followed the monster incident, they had done their best to track everything down. She had pushed and worked through every dropped ball, every dangling thread, with the rest of the gems, all for the assurance that what was done was done.

Before he had left, there had been only Bluebird. Everyone else was pacified, content. Every one of Pink’s lost treasures, Pink’s forgotten errors, delivered to Diamonds or Little Homeworld and all under watchful eye. The rest of the empire was free, living their own lives, with the thrones now vacant and cold.

Connie looked past his shoulder and shuddered at the looming trees that all seemed to lean - listening, wondering, hungry for mistakes and slip-ups. Her fingers curled tight into his jacket as she breathed deep, making the hand circle in her mind that she couldn’t make in real life, and did her best to stay whole while he cracked.

“Sometimes, I feel like you can only get some rest because I’m there for you, like it goes on forever and we’re just going to take turns,” she explained. “When you were hurting like that, when I had to yell at everyone on the beach to be better… I just felt like that was forever. Like one of us is always gonna have to be there for the gems, and you really needed a break.”

“I know. I get the feeling, I know that it… This is awful, Connie, but I…” He took a deep breath, tears hot against her shoulder. He sobbed once, barely able to get the words out, “Connie I’m so glad I’m not alone! I thought I was the only one who got hurt by anything, that everyone else was fine and I was wrong and broken and weaker than everyone else. Knowing you got hurt too makes it easier to handle. You can talk to me about anything, please.”

She felt her own eyes burn, a whimper closing her throat as she squeezed him tight. She pushed her eyes into his shoulder, swamp gone and everything replaced with love and security and comfort that she found in his blocky body and soft letterman. “I would’ve told you! I just thought I’d be another burden on you, like all the gems were! But Lars said it’s not the same-”

“It’s not.” He pulled back, red-rimmed eyes looking fiercely into her own. “Because you were  _ there _ . You’re always there, no matter what. You care about my feelings, and what’s important to me, and you  _ listen _ when I’m sad. I tell you  _ everything _ , Connie, and you can tell me everything too. I want you too. I want to help each other.”

She slumped sideways, letting her head fall to his chest and soothed herself with the beat of his heart. “I just don’t want to ruin your trip now. I’ve been coping with stuff for years now. I studied a lot and I worked a lot, and I guess that's how I dealt with stuff. My laptop screen cracked after the stuff with Bluebird, but I didn’t wanna tell you in case you asked why, in case you figured out that I was starting to freak out.

“I think if I try to be like you and relax and enjoy the trip, I’m just gonna freak out more. I’m gonna make you miserable. Steven, I…” She pulled away further, and Lion stood. He pushed against her chest and her fingers weaved into his hair as he chuffed softly. That was her wonderful boy, her smart boy. She scratched him with a nervous laugh. “Steven, I don’t even like bars! I hate really noisy shows! Every time we go somewhere all big and busy all I can do is look around for some gem coming to kill us, so there goes a bunch of sports games and concert and… and I’m gonna ruin everything!”

She clung tight to Lion, something she couldn’t ruin because all he needed was comfort and snacks and a quiet place to sleep. “He’s trying to make me feel better, because that’s what happened whenever I got sad. He always knows and I’d talk to him and hug him and I’d feel better sometimes, but a lot of times it didn’t work, and it’s not like I can take Lion into a concert!” Her eyes burned again and she hid in his mane. “How are you supposed to have any fun if I’m falling apart? I’m supposed to protect you and I-”

“We’re supposed to protect  _ each other _ ,” Steven emphasized, his hand resting gently on her back. “Connie, I don’t know all the stuff you’re dealing with but… I mean, that’s where I was when I first started trying to figure this out. There’s a lot of stuff that I have to bail out on because of the trauma stuff. And it’s not like we have to do anything together anyway. I can always go to a concert alone and you can have a fun night reading in some cool tea shop or something.”

She stiffened, feeling heat creep into his cheeks as she mumbled, “I didn’t think of that.”

“Dr. Morris says that sometimes, when you go through all this stuff, all you can really think about is the things you can’t do,” Steven said. “But a lot of times there’s a lot of workarounds, and people are nicer about this kind of thing than you think. And, you know, with therapy you can get over a lot of the worst stuff too.”

Connie winced, and actually felt like breaking away from Lion and Steven and exploring the murky depths below would be preferable to this. The thought of applying for the proper papers under her parents’ eyes, the look on their faces as she explained why she needed to go to therapy. The years of deceit unraveling in seconds. It was too much to bear. “I can’t talk to my parents yet, and if I want to go to therapy they’re gonna ask why, and there’s...”

“You haven’t told them,” Steven said, finally sounding a little disappointed. At least there was something she could do to make him unhappy. “About any of the stuff we did. They don’t know how much you were there for.”

“Why do you sound so sad now?” she muttered.

“Because you were there for me. I love you.” He looked at her as she turned her face sideways, peering up at him through pink tufts. “You have a mom who loves you and is trying to do better. I want you to be yourself with her.” A blush. “I kind of wish I could be a part of your family, you know.”

She raised her eyebrow, lightening everything with a joke. “Haven’t you tried to get into my family a few times already?”

He blushed darker, gently pushing her. “Shut up.”

Connie nodded, pushing herself straight with a sigh. Even his disappointment didn’t ache as much as she imagined it would. “You’re right, though. I want to tell Mom and Dad someday. I’m just not ready yet.”

“Would you be willing to do a couple’s counseling thing?” Steven asked. Connie felt her eyes go wide with surprise, and Steven quickly fumbled, “I mean, it’s not for, like… I don’t have problems with our relationship. It’s not about  _ us _ , just about stuff we did. Dr. Morris explained it way better. Uh…”

Connie reached out to take his hand, smiling reassuringly at him. “Steven, if it’s gonna help you, of course I’ll do it. What’s it about?”

Steven put his other hand on top of hers, cradling it softly. “There could be more than one session, if you’re okay with it. There’s some stuff I want to work through with some of the gem stuff we went through together, especially on Homeworld.” His hands squeezed hers as he swallowed. “The stuff in White’s Head.”

She laughed a little. “So, we’re going back on never talking about it again?”

“Yeah,” he said, and the seriousness in his voice stopped the jokes immediately. “I think we really need to talk about it, and I want someone there to help. You can tell your parents it’s for me, and they don’t have to know yet.”

She looked down at Lion with a little sigh as his rough tongue moved again and again as her calf. It was starting to sting a little, but at least she wasn’t holding on to reality by her fingertips. At least she wasn’t drowning. It felt oddly heavier to feel so down to earth, so lucid, and have to talk about the problem this way. “Can’t think of a good reason to say no.”

“Thanks. And Connie?” He waited for her to look up at him, and Steven smiled bright. “I want to have a good time with you. If stuff upsets you, or sometimes we can’t do the thing we wanted, it’s not gonna ruin everything. You’ve always been patient with me. I’m happy to be patient with you.”

“That’s different,” Connie said.

“Why?” he shot back, his brows furrowing with sudden frustration. “Why would it be different? Because you’re a girl, you’re supposed to be the one that takes care of me? Because I did bigger stuff I’m the only one who’s allowed to be hurt?”

Steven took a deep breath, pushing to his feet and pacing for a moment, his heavy feet thudding against the board before he turned back to her. “You know, I really messed up. I lied. I hurt people. I hurt people  _ really bad. _ Even if I had reasons, even if it doesn’t make me bad… Maybe I did better things than you but I did  _ worse _ things than you, and it’s not about any of that.”

His hands rested on either side of her head, pulling her close to kiss between her eyebrows as he murmured, “This trip is about finding myself, and figuring out being human and… and what’s more human than making stuff work with the person you love the most in the world? We’ll both make sacrifices. That’s how love works.”

She blushed, and laughed, and when she reached out to hug him they toppled to the boardwalk in a single body. It was easy, like it always was, near-accidental when they were in love and happy and on the same page. The sky overhead was orange and purple, beautiful even in darkness. The looming trees above were beautifully haunting, curling around them like their own safe, private little fort. 

Stevonnie looked to the water, dark and still and so  _ alive _ . That’s what a swamp was - land and water swirled together so the very planet seemed to breathe with them. As dusk fell, everything grew noisier as all the living things crept from their holes, their noises turning to harmony. They could write a song to this, join in the cacophony.

They rolled on their belly, peering down past the boardwalk, and smiled at a little frog there. Its little beady eyes stared up at them, its throat palpitating with its speedy little breaths, and they delighted in its cuteness. They grinned. “Huh. Guess swamps aren’t all alligators, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a day early, but with Jam Week I'm worried about getting drwoend out, lol. See you next Monday for the next chapter!


	15. The Thing We Don't Talk About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie talk about White Diamond, and enjoy their time in Seattle.
> 
> Lovely art from [ArcadeDiamond](https://arcadediamond.tumblr.com/)  
> And more beautiful art from [Suf-fering!](https://suf-fering.tumblr.com/)  
> And even more wonderful art from [Artsycooky13!](https://artsycooky13.tumblr.com/)

Steven and Connie had discovered a love of coffee a couple years back on a barren planet. Once it had been full of organic life, and now it was full of gems who needed a little extra convincing that the Diamonds truly wanted them to be free. They had whipped packets of instant coffee with sugar, and drank it over cold milk Pearl had stored in her gem. They had giggled over caramel sweetness and ignored the bags that grew heavier under their eyes with every passing hour. Yes, there was a planet to save, but who knew you could make whipped cream coffee?

The day of their therapy session, he’d left her a note and snuck out before she woke up, grabbing everything he needed from a grocery store. He was ever grateful for the strength, speed and stamina that made shaking coffee into fluff effortless, even without a mixer. When he came back to the room, Connie’s hair was wet from her shower and she was typing away on her newly fixed laptop.

“Want a pick-me-up?” he asked with a wink, a grin, and an extended delicious looking cup.

She burst into a delighted laugh. “Oh my gosh! This is so sweet! How’d you even think of it?”

“Because I remember every second I spend with you,” he said, and slipped up behind her on the bed. His legs slid to the outside of hers, his belly pressed to her back as he eyes her laptop. “I thought you might be nervous about our appointment, so I was going to calm you down with some whipped coffee, cuddling, a super romantic anime movie instead of a TubeTube tutorial on blending layers…”

She looked over her shoulder at him with a grin. “If I’m not studying STEM it counts as relaxation.”

He reached forward, quietly clicking her laptop into new tabs as he murmured, “A relaxation novice, huh? Lemme show you what _expert_ level chill looks like.”

For the first time in quite a while, Steven felt himself slip back into a role of protector, of caregiver, and tried not to cry into her shoulder as he felt her calm down. She was his Connie, and he had her safe and warm as they pushed into the storms ahead. It was safe. It was healthy. And he was sure it was going to become a good habit of his again.

* * *

Dr. Morris was a sweet-looking man with a very square face. His eyes were blue behind big, square glasses, and that made them look even bigger. His neatly cut hair was going gray on the sides, and Steven thought that made him look very dignified. He dressed like a college professor, of at least what Steven imagined a college professor to look like - a tweed jacket that fit so perfectly against a bookshelf background. When he spoke, his voice was deep, almost too much for his slender, soft frame, but it was tender and warm.

Steven liked his therapist. He hoped Connie would too.

“Before we start, I’d like to make something clear,” Dr. Morris said, his pen resting across a page they couldn’t read. His voice was firm, but encouraging. “This isn’t a typical therapy session. I’ll be taking notes for the future, but the goal for the two of you is to communicate with each other, not to me.”

Steven slid his eyes to Connie and found her with that same determined look she had in combat. A little frustration built in his chest, but he eased it with the reminder that she was struggling in her own way, even if it was something neither of them fully understood. Patience. He put his hand on her knee and tried a smile for her. “Connie, it’s not a test. He’s not gonna grade you. I just wanna talk.”

“To me?” she asked, her eyes moving from his hand on her knee up into his hopefully open and pleasant face. “But I don’t think I can help with anything.”

There was a long silence as Steven struggled for an answer, and Dr. Morris hopped to his rescue. “Steven and I have discussed the incident in White’s head on our own. He’s not looking for you to be his therapist. Would you like to tell Connie why you invited her today?”

He swallowed, nodding. He had a split second where he thought about planning his words, before they all came tumbling out anyway in a jumbled mess, “I just wanna talk about it. It feels like it’s this horrible secret, even though we both know everything about it. It’s like we’re ashamed of it or something, but we’re not supposed to be ashamed when bad stuff happens to us. The people who did it are supposed to be ashamed. And I…”

Steven tried to sort through the memories that threatened to drag him down, to pull him back to the moment and make it impossible to remember where he was and what he was doing. The moment with White, resting in her hand, then gripped by Connie’s trembling arms with nothing in between. “I have a gap. I don’t remember what happened right after she ripped my gem out. I need to know.”

Connie took a deep breath and nodded, still determined, still steady. He searched for emotion in her face - for distress or misery or fear, and found it as still and calm as a lake on a windless day. Frustration started curling in his gut again. “Right. I was captured by an enemy combatant after being distracted by your capture.”

“Pearl,” he corrected with a frown.

“She wasn’t Pearl at the time. She was being puppeted by White Diamond,” Connie said, her voice infuriatingly level and calm. She wasn’t looking at him, anymore instead at his laptop screen and Dr. Morris inside it. “I was pinned at the time. I tried to escape her grip, and it was getting looser as White Diamond got more distracted with Steven. You said the gap in your memory was after she pulled out your gem?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly, glaring at the side of her head. “Last thing I remember is you screaming.” She went stiff at that, a tightening in her shoulders and then down her spine. Well, that was something, at least. She felt _something_. He pushed, “And then I came back around to you freaking out. Not crying? I remember that. You didn’t cry until I was back together.”

Her eyes moved to him. “We were still in danger. When White Diamond ripped your gem out, you fell to the floor, and I-”

“How fast?” Steven asked. He could hear the snappishness in his tone, his mood slowly swinging beyond frustration into anger. “Did it sound bad when I hit the ground?”

Dr. Morris’s deep voice cut through before anything else could be said. “Steven, you’re speaking a little aggressively.” Steven felt his temper rise for an instant, upset that he was being called out, before the doctor continued, “Connie, you’re speaking to me more than Steven, and you’re speaking in a very detached way. Could you try to direct yourself towards Steven a little more?”

And she turned to Steven.

* * *

The day after their therapy session, Steven was antsy. He always got antsy after a session like that, though it had been a while since he had one so intense. He needed Connie to do most of the driving so he didn’t swerve off the road into a ditch.

She gunned it up out of Bayou and beyond, out of the part of the country they were through with. No more south. No more plains. They’d spent so much of their lives on the east coast that there was no point heading there. They drove northwest as far as they could go, and Steven played rock that bordered on metal and looked out the window and tried to direct his feelings towards something positive.

They tried to rest in the motel, tried to watch a sitcom and ease their minds. Maybe it had worked for Connie, but it didn’t work for him. Temper coiled and clenched around his heart like a boa, until it was impossible to think of anything other than the ache in his chest. Steven pushed to his feet suddenly, jerkily. “I need to go.”

“Are you okay?” Connie frowned, coming beside him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Can I help?”

“No.” He pushed her hand off, rougher than usual, but doing his best to hold it back. He tried to explain, even as his wild mood made it come out as a growl, “I’m mad. I don’t have a good reason. I’ve been trying to figure it out for an hour and I just keep getting madder so it’s probably a stupid mood swing. I’m gonna go for a walk and clear my head.”

Connie let her hand fall. “I could come with you.”

“Don’t.” He was out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving her in the quiet room with the laugh track running.

Steven went for a walk and it didn’t work. He got in his car and he played loud music and it didn’t work. He flicked on the ignition and rolled down all the windows and he drove and sang and pulled over every so often to work through some techniques Dr. Morris had given him. He tried to ignore the frustrating clock, telling him just how long it was taking to cool down.

It worked. Painfully slowly, but it worked. He came back apologizing for leaving so abruptly, kissing her cheek with a little smile as he explained better this time, “Sometimes my emotions just kind of go haywire, you know? Especially after a therapy session like that, talking through bad stuff. When I’m mad, I just feel a little better coping alone, you know? Because I don’t wanna worry about hurting anyone. I just need to focus on me.”

“It’s fine. I…” She laughed, shaking her head and correcting her instinctual brushing off. “Okay, it wasn’t fine. I’m not gonna lie anymore. It hurt, but I know you didn’t mean it. Next time you get mad, I’ll let you deal. It’s not like it even takes that long.”

He winced, remembering the time slowly passing on the clock of his car, his phone, the moon’s position shifting ever so slightly in the sky. “I think taking over an hour is pretty long. But Dr. Morris says I’ll get better at it.”

“Over an hour?” She glanced at the TV, the laugh track, with an odd kind of wonder in her eyes and voice. “Huh. They’re all so similar I didn’t even notice the episodes swap.”

Steven said, “I guess you were out.”

“Out?”

“Daydreaming?” Steven raised an eyebrow. She looked just as confused as ever, and Steven thought how weird it was that they had so rarely talked about it, that they had never had a long conversation about the way Connie shut down, locked him out and curled inwards - like with Kevin, like with Jeff, like with the night she left on the beach.

He explained, “Dad said you were out to lunch whenever you got all wrapped up in daydreaming and we had to knock you out of it. When you were, I don’t know, fantasizing about shoving Kevin off a cliff of something.”

“Come on,” she scoffed and elbowed him. “I didn’t do it that often.”

He grinned and teased, “I thought you said you weren’t gonna lie.”

Connie hesitated. “Was it really that often?”

He shrugged, a bit of worry creeping in. Was it that often? He thought it was, thought it seemed to be the way she coped with everything - quiet and reservation and hardwork. He admired that about her, loved her ability to keep so level and reasonable even in the worst situations. 

Everything felt odd now, though, like uncharted territory. He tried to be gentle. “I don’t know. You’re quiet. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s going through your head.”

* * *

“Right.” She turned in her chair to face him, her eyes almost meeting his but feeling slightly off. Was she looking over his shoulder? At his nose? His forehead? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it as she tried to explain. “You didn’t have your magic, so you just fell. Like you would out a window or something.” Her fingers curled around the hem of her shorts, blue fabric tugging lines of tension all along her thighs. “The enemy, um… Pearl, she… Puppeted Pearl, I guess. She let me go.”

Her hands swept through her hair, her eyes dropping, and Steven suddenly felt very much like he didn’t want this at all, that her looking to Dr. Morris with clipped, clinical language was better than the hunch in her shoulders, the slight tremor in her voice. Connie didn’t panic. Connie didn’t shake. Not like this - not in a quiet, still room with his emotions so even. She wasn’t supposed to be rocking in a storm he couldn’t feel. 

“I r-ran to where you were falling as fast as I could, but I don’t have powers or anything. And you didn’t float. So you…”

“Everything hurt,” Steven said quietly, and then tried to soften it, “I don’t think anything was broken. It didn’t hurt that way. I don’t think hitting the ground was that bad. It was just losing my gem.”

“I bet it’s because you were unconscious, completely limp,” Connie leapt in quickly, her eyes flicking up to his before dropping down again. “I researched it. Being unconscious is one of the best ways to fall, actually. Everything is limp, which dissipates the shock. With the height you fell from, any human could have survived, even with minimal bruising. Humans have actually fallen from planes before and lived.”

Her hands wrung and twisted in her lap. Stretching fingers, circles, deep breaths as she ran through her own, much smaller toolkit of ways to deal with stress. “You’re not really supposed to move people after a fall. You need a paramedic. Because if they hurt their neck or spine you could really mess them up. I knew that then too, I think, but I just wasn’t really thinking. I mean, you have magic. You don’t really break. Or I guess you do. You said you did, that my mom did x-rays and your bones actually do break. But I guess that’s not really what we’re talking about.

“Sorry, um, I lifted you. I held you up. You were sort of conscious, maybe? You were leaning on me really heavy but you sort of stood on your feet, you…” She took a deep breath, letting it out in almost an angry growl. Her hands moved up, tugging at her red-orange polo. Everything about her hands seemed so active, entrancing in their endless movement. 

“Okay, um, you didn’t seem to have a lot wrong with you. You looked kind of sick, I guess. But that’s all that happened. She dropped you, and I ran, but you hit the floor anyway and I stood you up.”

He tried to be gentle, his voice filled with all the tenderness he could muster. “How long was I out?”

Steven had expected it, had felt it building with every shaky word, but somehow it still came as a shock as her voice suddenly cracked. Her head fell to her hands, her elbows braced on her knees as she forced out, “Stars, Steven. I don’t know. It felt like forever. You were getting so cold so fast.” She whimpered, the heels of her hands pushing into her eyes as a little cry came out, as her voice was almost too thick with tears to sound like herself anymore. “Fuck, Steven, you were like a dead body.”

* * *

Three days after their therapy session, they were in a fancy hotel. Connie had balked at the price for the night, but Steven had grinned and winked and tugged out a credit card, and she had rolled her eyes as Steven radiated charm and friendliness with the clerk behind the counter. It wasn’t just any seventeen-year-old who could flash a black credit card without anyone asking questions, but Steven had a charisma that couldn’t be questioned.

The amenities were nice, the room was shiny, but what he had paid for was the view. They stood on one of the highest floors, the window wide and tall, and stared out at the gray landscape, the dark water. Evening was falling, and the city was lighting up - earthly lights blotting out the celestial ones overhead. Not that it mattered with the clouds. Seattle didn’t seem like a good spot for stargazing.

Steven hugged his girlfriend from behind as she stared out at the view, and he felt a little spark of pride and excitement that this might be her first time in an extra fancy hotel, unlike his moment in Empire City. He placed a gentle kiss on her neck and sighed as he took in the sleepy scenery. “Beautiful, huh?”

“Mountains, water system, coastal city with deep ocean between you and the next landmass. Mmm, ideal start for a Deity run,” Connie said with a grin, and laughed as he did. His arms squeezed her, he twirled her around, and when they’d toppled back onto the bed he’d kissed her so deep everything went quiet. He was getting better at finding those boundaries, at carefully kissing her so that she didn’t panic.

It was odd to be ahead of Connie in anything human. It was odd to think to himself that he was the one who needed to hold back, to not push ahead with eager exploration, when Connie had always been full of eye shining curiosity and courage. He wondered if she even struggled with things like he did, if she shot him slow, roaming looks while he relaxed in his yellow pj’s, just like he stared with domestic delight at her long seafoam nightgown.

He tried to focus on food instead. They ordered room service and enjoyed the view as they tried oysters, a tray of meats and cheese, soups and salads and pasta and steak. When Connie called him Mr. Vegetarian he had laughed and said, “Ninety percent”, and that had been the end of it, because there was an understanding, and he didn’t have to justify and explain his decision to occasionally indulge in an animal corpse.

Some things didn’t need an explanation, like how each night, Connie reached behind the TV and pulled the plug before going to her own bed. He appreciated that she did it, even though she knew what his nightmares were about. She’d guided him through months of them after all, always happy to pick up the phone and talk him down, talking her mom into letting her spend the night so his dad could get a break.

And that night was a good one for an unplugged TV. Therapy had knocked memories loose, and he woke up drenched in sweat, breathing heavy, glowing like a nightlight. Connie climbed into his bed, her hands running over his back in warm reassurance, her voice a patient murmur of, “I’m here, I’m here.” He clung to her, muttering an apology for the sweat.

“I needed a shower anyway, it’s okay,” she said. She held him and whispered soothing words and even sang soft, just for him, as city lights filtered down through the bottom of the curtain. She didn’t sing for anyone. Just herself. Just him. She asked, “Want to look at the view?”

His face rested against her collarbone, with misery slamming into his gut as he pushed out the words, “Why do you put up with this?”

“Because I love you,” she said. “Because you’ll do it for me too.”

She left him only to get two decadent coffee drinks from the floor below, icy mint and chocolate cooling his overheated body. She sipped her own simple white mocha, and they sat in chairs with the curtains flung open. The sky opened up, rain pouring down onto city streets, filling their city view with a curtain of wet.

“Too bad we’re missing the sunrise,” he said.

“It’s happening.” Connie sipped her coffee as rain tapped steadily all around them. “Even if you can’t see it sometimes. The sun rises every day.”

He wiped the burn from his eyes and weaved his fingers through hers.

* * *

Dr. Morris said, his voice calming even through Steven’s trashy laptop speakers, “Connie, do you want a break?”

“No,” she gasped, wiping at her eyes. “I’m fine. I can do this. It just feels really real. I’m not used to it feeling this real.”

“We have a lot of time,” he reminded her patiently. “It’s alright to take a breather if you need one.”

But Connie didn’t take breathers. Steven suggested things like picnics and jam sessions and naps, and he could always see her mind turning and moving, slowly, slowly winding down. When there was work to be done, the gears never stopped, less convincible and less malleable than Peridot to the idea of taking a break.

“You hit the floor and it wasn’t like a movie,” she said, her voice tight and nearly hissing as he could see every word shoved from her chest like lifting a weight. “It was a thud, almost a slap, like when you hit the water. And I didn’t even think about your neck or your spine. I just grabbed you, and I even shook you a little. I could have fucked you up forever. I didn’t even think about anything.”

“It’s okay,” he started.

“It’s _not_ !” she snapped. “It’s not okay at all! You could’ve been paralyzed forever! I could’ve killed you! What would have happened if I killed you? Could your gem half bring you back? Would you be pink? Or would you just be dead? And then I’d be dead. And then the whole world would’ve just been dead, everyone I’ve ever met and everyone I don’t know and everything on the whole planet just hollowed out into _nothing_ because I was too stupid not to shake you.”

He put his hands on her again, trying to give the comfort he so often needed. Her skin trembled under his hands as he squeezed, as he said, “I did all kinds of stupid stuff. It’s okay. That’s why we’re talking about it now.”

She groaned, wiping at her eyes again as more tears kept coming. “You didn’t wanna talk about it then! You came home and you went off to go… to go save everyone, to fix everyone, and I went home and I… I don’t know! I didn’t know what to do! I couldn’t tell my parents about it because they didn’t know and what was I supposed to do?”

“I would’ve talked to you,” he insisted, “if you had asked, I would have. I’ll talk about anything you want.”

“But not _then_!” she said, nearly laughing as she shook her head with disbelief. “How could I? Call you up and say hey, do you wanna come talk to me about almost dying? Say hey, I need you to stop saving everyone to talk to me about the thing you obviously don’t wanna talk about? That we don’t wanna talk about? The thing where you died?”

He remembered going home. He remembered finding gem work to throw himself into, because there was so much to do so much to settle. Everyone was uncorrupted, and then there was getting them set up. Then there was spreading democracy across the galaxy. He was so busy, so helpful, his own problems placed on the backburner in exchange for everyone else’s.

And Connie had been there, sometimes. And other times she had… Steven asked, finding yet another blank in his memory, “So what’d you do when you weren’t with me?”

“What I _always_ do!” she cried. “I got to work! I rearranged my whole room, threw out all the trash, started up all my food stores. I did my homework and I checked out some nonfiction books in the library about survival and medicine and all that kind of stuff and I just _worked_ so I didn’t have to think about it. Just like you!”

“If I may interject for clarity,” Dr. Morris interrupted. “Food stores?”

Steven explained without a thought, not thinking that maybe Connie should answer, that it was a question for her and not for him. “Her snack stuff. She’s got a bunch of food in her drawers and in the cabinets and under her…” Silence fell for a moment, Connie’s eyes meeting his. He remembered food crammed in her backpack, protein bars in his backseat. He swallowed as the weight settled onto his shoulders, lead settling into his stomach. “Oh.”

“Don’t,” she said fiercely. “Don’t blame yourself. Any weird food stuff I have is… no one’s noticed. On purpose. Don’t blame yourself for me being a good liar.”

“Okay,” he said weakly, though he was doing it anyway.

She closed her eyes with a groan. “This is why we don’t talk about it. This is why I never brought it up. Steven, you care for _everyone_ more than yourself. And we can’t talk about something where you nearly died and make it about me.”

“I don’t want to make it about you.” He took her hands in his, squeezing them, trying to find a way to make his emotion come through clear. “Connie, the thing that made everything bearable, all the awful stuff, was that I never had to go through it alone. Someone was always with me, or almost always. I wasn’t by myself.

“I don’t want to make this about you, Connie. I want to know that you’re still with me. I want to keep doing this together. I want to know that I’m not the only one who struggles with this.” He gently pressed his lips to her fingers, hoping it could convey some of the things he felt.

Her hands squeezed his. “You’re not. And I… I’m worse than you.” She laughed, dropping her head again. “I can’t be in the same room with her without hating her. With any of the Diamonds. I _hate_ them, Steven. I don’t care how they changed. I’m mad, and I’ll always be mad, and I don’t want to see them again.”

“Me too,” Steven laughed. “I guess we’re awful together.”

“That isn’t awful,” Dr. Morris said, a quiet firmness and passion to his voice that came over him sometimes. It was the kind of thing that always made Steven stop, to stare at his doctor as the man settled tangled thoughts and feelings. 

The doctor leaned towards the screen, blue eyes intense even from miles away. “Steven, Connie, let me get the order of events clear. You were nearly murdered by the Diamonds on multiple occasions. They repeatedly misgendered and misnamed Steven as his mother, while referring to Connie as a pet. Is that all true so far?”

Connie’s hand clutched his, and he squeezed back. They mumbled confirmations, unsure of where the speech was going.

“At a vulnerable moment, just after you fused, you were shamed and told that your affection was wrong and perverse and told to stop. You then watched your friends experience extreme physical harm. You were thrown in a prison, which Steven’s mother was kept in for possibly years at a time, with no food, water, or way to tell how much time was passing. Do I still have all of this correct?”

“Yessir,” Connie murmured.

Dr. Morris took a deep breath, emotions rippling across his face as he pulled them back, reining them in to continue his warm but professional tone. “After yet more violence, Connie was captured by her mentor while Steven was verbally and psychologically tormented by the puppeted bodies of his family, suffered through yet another attempted murder - only to be berated yet again after fusing into himself.

“You do _not_ need to forgive these people,” he told them. “You do _not_ need to like them. You never have to speak to them again. You never have to _see_ them again if that’s what you want. You aren’t _awful_ . You aren’t _wrong_. You are entitled to remove people from your life without guilt or shame, no matter what steps they may take to improve themselves. Their continued good behavior is not on your shoulders.”

Connie’s voice beside Steven was soft, confused, “You… actually think it’s not our jobs?”

“Of course not,” he said, almost scoffing at the idea. “You’re young adults, and you were children at the time. Has someone been telling the two of you that?”

“Everyone told me that,” Steven said. “I’ve got the pink diamond. So I was the only one who could do anything. And Connie’s my… we’re Stevonnie. We…”

As he looked to her, she quickly saw the guilt piling up, the worry, and her hand smoothed over his. “You’re okay.”

Steven faltered, memories crashing down, his throat tightening with confusion and hurt. “I relied on you. We relied on you. I don’t know how to say… you were supposed to be there. We were supposed to fuse. You’re…”

“I’m your knight,” she said, softly running a thumb over the back of his hand. “I made it my job.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s not your responsibility. Maybe none of it was.” She put her forehead to his, murmuring, “I… I want to talk about it. Everything that happened when we went to Homeworld. I won’t close myself off. I won’t put up a wall.”

“That’s all I wanted,” Steven said, wiping tears out of his eyes. “I just want to know how you’re feeling. That you cared. That watching me almost die… maybe it’s wrong, but I needed to know that it hurt. I need to know people care, Connie. Why does everyone keep acting like they don’t?”

“Because everything is a fight,” she said, a casual factuality to her tone. “If you let them see you cry, they’ll use it. It’s a safer strategy to pretend it doesn’t matter. People like you more if you hold the bad feelings back. Sometimes, you have to play the game to keep safe. But I’m safe with you, Steven, and you’re safe with me. We don’t have to hide it.”

He smiled, and then they talked a lot. And then they cried a lot. And Dr. Morris said some things that they needed to hear.

And things got a little bit better.

* * *

“Does it rain here every day?” Steven asked, his shield arm protecting them from the downpour. Everything was chilly wind and pouring rain, despite the optimistic way the weather had started. The markets were behind them, and they had been so lovely. Pretty, _open_ markets, which were now wet and biting like everything else.

“Half of the time.” Connie grinned. 

“Are you serious?”

“Little less than that. Maybe forty?” She giggled at his round-eyed shock and took a deep breath. Her face wrinkled up in the most adorable way as she laughed harder. “Oh my gosh, how does it still smell like fish?”

“It’s a fish market!”

“But it’s _raining_ !” She shook her head and pulled out her phone with a disappointed grunt. “Alright, um, I know we were supposed to do the market today, but it’s all outdoors and it’s _pouring_. I made a bunch of other plans, though. I can rearrange everything.”

Steven cocked his head. “You made plans?”

She smiled up at him, her face beautiful in the pink glow. Over the rain, with everyone distant, there was no one to hear her say, “I know that our talk was really rough for you. I know it opened up a lot of stuff that you’ve been trying to manage, and it probably feels like you’re sliding backwards.”

He smiled weakly. “Sometimes. I still feel bad for that mood swing.”

“It’s alright! I wanted to show you how much I care, and that I’m really putting my all into the road trip.” She held up her phone, her calendar marked up in pretty, scheduled days. “I chose Seattle on purpose. It’s all food and music and culture - the stuff you’re traveling for! I chose stuff I knew you’d love, and stuff I _hoped_ you’d love.”

“Connie,” he whispered.

She brought her phone back to her chest, looking down at it with a sigh. “I know I can be quiet and kind of closed off. Sometimes, it feels like I put down one of your bubbles between how I feel, or from the rest of the world, like I’m playing the role of the big strong hero in a movie, and I know that it’s really hard for you. I want to show you that I care, even if I’m… you know, out to lunch.”

He touched her arm, smiling. “I never thought anything else, silly.”

Connie looked up from her phone, eyes shining with unshed tears and excitement. “I have a place. I… it’s silly, but trust me. Just follow my lead. You’re gonna love it.”

He let her guide the way, let her politely hush the rideshare driver as they hopped into the car. She giggled, covering his eyes from his every glance at the navigation on the phone until he stopped his teasing and simply enjoyed the rain bouncing off the roof, the slow drive through the traffic-clogged city.

Steven let her drag him out of the car, and up to a building. A building, he noticed, that was swarmed with kids. School busses idled in the parking lot, classes were awkwardly organized by teachers calling for names and insisting they line up. He eyed the sign - the Pacific Science Center looming overhead in big, blue letters - but let her rush him up to the ticket counter nevertheless.

She insisted on entrance to the IMAX, the laser show, and every bonus exhibit, then held out her hand. Steven stared for a moment, then burst into laughter as he pulled out his wallet and handed over the card, noting that the ticket teller hid a grin too as he took it. Connie flushed, awkwardly trying to explain the fact that Steven was actually very okay with it and she really wasn’t that type of girl, and they rushed away from the booth before things could get any more awkward.

“Sooo… why are we surrounded by kids?” Steven asked, torn between apprehension and giddiness. She was Connie, and surely she wouldn’t think of him as a kid, or hold him back, but a small part of him couldn’t help but worry why she’d bring him here as the laughter of children came at him from every side.

“This is a science center,” Connie said, tucking all the tickets into her backpack. “Every kid goes to these a million times. It’s every school’s favorite place to do field trips. They’re all educational and fun and made to keep a classroom busy for a whole day.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You brought me to a school?”

“No!” She laughed. “Steven, it’s fun. Science centers are just… I don’t know. They’re full of experiments to do. Hands-on stuff to help you understand neat things about the world. There’s always something interesting and cool around the corner. They were some of my favorite places to go growing up, especially before I had friends.”

Connie brushed her hair shyly behind her ear, confessing, “After I met you, every time I went to one I always wished you could be there. I knew you’d love it. I knew we’d have a great time. But I never wanted to drag you out of Beach City. I thought that a bunch of kid science would be boring compared to Pearl’s lectures on space travel, or Peridot’s explanations of gem tech.”

He shook his head, laughing sheepishly. “I could never keep up with any of that stuff.”

“Yeah. And it really sucks that you missed out on stuff you could keep up with.” She gave his hands a squeeze as she took them. “Even if we did a lot of grown-up stuff when we were supposed to be kids, I want to be a teenager with you now. I want to do kid stuff with you. I think you earned it.”

He looked around at the exciting colors, the shifting experiments that surrounded them on every side like a scientific playground. “But if you’ve done all this stuff before, I don’t want to drag you through a bunch of stupid kid stuff.”

Connie beamed at him, bouncing on her heels. “But I never got to do any of this with my _best friend,_ and that’s the best part - having fun with someone who’s fun to be around! All the stories, all the adventure I wanted growing up…” Her voice went tender and sweet, “All I really wanted was to have a friend as close as Archimicarus. To have a partner like that, someone who would love and support you no matter what, and to love and support them back.”

“Me too,” he said, and there was that easy understanding again, things that didn’t need to be said. They took each other's hands and they enjoyed their day as kids.

* * *

“Would either of you mind if I spoke to Connie privately for a moment?” Dr. Morris said, his hands busy as he tucked away the things from the session. “You two were my last meeting for the day, so I have a few minutes to spare. It’s nothing about you, Steven. I just want to ask Connie a few questions.”

Steven smiled and pecked her cheek. “No problem. I’ll just go for a walk like you normally do. Ten minutes sound good?”

“More than enough,” Dr. Morris said. “Connie, are you comfortable with that?”

She nodded, though she could feel her scalp tingling in warning. “Yessir.”

Once Steven had stepped out the door, and Connie had given him the all-clear, Dr. Morris finished his paper straightening and looked back into the camera. “Was today your first time seeking any counseling on these issues?”

“You mean gem stuff or White’s head?” Connie asked, then smiled awkwardly. “I mean, it doesn’t matter. I never went about any of that, but I went to the school’s counselor a lot about life plans. I really know what I want to do with my career, and I think I know who I am, so I’m not really in the same place as Steven.”

He smiled back, warm and comforting as always. “You don’t need to be in Steven’s place to seek therapy. You don’t have to compare your problems to his. You’ve been in a hard place the past couple years. You said you overwork to avoid thinking about unpleasant memories, that you treat social situations as combat scenarios or diplomatic missions, and that you have a complicated relationship with food. These are things therapy could help you work through, if you’re interested.”

Despite the affection, the lack of confrontation, Connie found her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I think I’m doing everything right, though. My grades were really good and I kept up really well in all my extracurriculars and stuff like that. So I don’t know if there’s really a problem, not like with Steven and his powers.”

“Being in pain is enough of a problem to seek counseling,” Dr. Morris said gently. “Not to pressure you, but that’s enough. With the Roaming Patients Telecommunications Act and the circumstances you’ve been through, it was easy to set up as a non-military combatant for the session today. We had all the paperwork for Steven, and it was easy to make copies for you. The hardest part is already done.”

Her mind flicked through her internal files of laws and news, and asked, “Is that covered under the Gem Conflict Relief Act? That included medical aid, I thought.”

He nodded. “It does, physical and mental health. It comes from the government’s pockets, not your parents’. These services are available to you and it wouldn’t put a burden on anyone. I’m happy to help you take advantage of them if that’s something you’re interested in.”

“Thank you.” She frowned and hastily added, “I’m very sorry if I distracted from Steven’s session today.”

“Today was a group session, not Steven’s.” Dr. Morris laughed. “Don’t worry. When it’s a Steven session, I spend the whole time thinking about Steven. When it’s a group session, I think about everyone there. And, if we had private sessions, it’d be all about you. It’s my job to mediate and keep things rolling, not yours.”

She felt her shoulders uncoil a little. It was so nice to hear an adult take responsibility for once, and it was that that drove her to say, “Okay. No reason why not. I’ll try the therapy thing.”

* * *

On their fourth day in Seattle, there was finally a break in the rain and clouds. They found a park by the water, and took a blanket from Steven’s car to go lay out on the bank and stare at the stars, listen to the lake, and enjoy the quiet.

Connie had taken him to the pop culture museum that day. They’d only meant to spend half the day there, to take advantage of the good weather and spend the other half at the market. But there was an exhibit full of guitars, and Connie had listened to him gush over every one, and he kept catching loving glances from her that made him flush as he read every word and watched every video on guitar history.

Of course, they had a fantasy exhibit, and he’d found himself just as enraptured by her delight. The science fiction exhibit had been a little less fun. Connie was having a very space-case kind of day it seemed, and he found himself constantly kissing her cheek or giving her hair a little tug to knock her out of her daydreaming and move her on to the next piece.

He felt like there might be something to that, but Connie had said she agreed to therapy, that her first appointment would be soon, and Steven was happy to let it lay, just for a while. Well, he wasn’t happy about it, but he really wasn’t supposed to shove his nose into everyone’s business and fix everyone every time he got the urge.

“Hey, Steven,” she said, looking out at the water. “You said that all your symptoms, the bad stuff, it started really coming out with Little Homeschool ending, right?”

He tried not to sound too eager to help. “Yeah. Has stuff been coming up for you too?”

“Maybe. I feel like I have this big dam inside me, and I’ve been patching it up and patching it up, and I ran out of cement. I can see the water’s coming through, and I don’t know how to stop it.” She looked at him, sighing like her impending symptoms were an inevitable tax day, rather than something to fear or dread. “Was that what it was like for you?”

“No,” he said softly. It had all been so sudden for him, so shocking. Human and helpful one day and a monster the next. “I couldn’t see I’d run out of stuff to patch it up with. When it hit I didn’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I just know it’s coming.”

He leaned over to kiss her temple, and more and more he felt like his affection really was getting through to her, that the little quirk of a smile on her lips was how Connie accepted the gentle moments between them. “I’m here. I’m not gonna let you get swept away. I’m gonna take care of you like you take care of me. Like you took care of me for months.”

Connie stared up at the stars, saying idly, “It’s gonna be awful. I’m ugly when I cry. You’ll probably wanna break up with me.”

He laughed. “Somehow, I think I’m gonna love you anyway. You love me when I ugly cry, right?”

“I do.” She smiled. “Jam Buds for life.”

They kissed softly under the stars, and savored the clear weather day among the storms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a couple things here. The first is that I'd like to say thank you so very, very much to the community that's been so kind to this story. The comments, the fanart, the people who love to discuss it. I can't express enough how honored I am to have this kind of reaction, to have this kind of feedback from the fandom.
> 
> The second is that I'm going to try to reach out to people, but if you've made fanart and you'd like me to put it into the story, please let me know! You can do so through a comment here. If you prefer, I'm universallywriting on Tumblr, and both my inbox and DMs are open. I still can't believe I've gotten enough fan art that I'm doing it this way, but I'd love nothing more than to have your pictures in the work and plug you, just in case there's anyone who hasn't seen your work!
> 
> The rest of the story is outlined, and it's drawing to a close. I hope that, by the end, you'll feel happy where Steven and Connie are, what they're choosing to do with their lives, and their relationships to the people around them.
> 
> Thank you again for all the support! I really can't be grateful enough!


	16. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie goes to therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to start with a huge thank you to a couple people. I've thanked them before, but I'd like to do it again.
> 
> The first is my husband, [EchoFour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoFour/profile), who helps me with literally everything I do.  
> The next is [NewLense,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewLense/profile) who worked with me to really nail the therapy sessions.  
> And, finally, [FollowerofMercy,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FollowerofMercy/profile) who has been an absolutely phenomenal indepth beta.
> 
> I really couldn't do such a good job without all of you.
> 
> Art from Suf-fering!  
> 

**Session 1**

“Now that we’ve gotten all the pre-talk out of the way, I like to start my new clients off by talking about goals, what you’d like us to accomplish here,” Dr. Morris said with a smile. He was as warm and nice as ever, comforting in the same way Connie found her father comforting - unintimidating, friendly, making the occasional pun and dad joke in their warm-up together.

Still, he was an adult. Someone with authority. Connie wasn’t especially suspicious of therapists, really. She was just suspicious of anyone with power. Dr. Morris could tell her parents, because she was a minor and that was still allowed. Dr. Morris could try to force her on meds. Dr. Morris could commit her. And though he hadn’t done it with Steven, and though it was silly to think so, her heart thudded out the word _careful_ with every beat.

“Goals can be anything. If you want to work on things that interfere with career plans, things that might make relationships a struggle, even struggling with being alone by yourself. I want to focus on the things that are most important to you,” he said, and leaned back in what looked to be a very comfy office chair.

“Um.” Connie looked down at her hands, cross-legged on the cheap motel bed. What was safe? Human stuff. That was where to start. “I think that I’m okay with school and career stuff. Getting more comfortable with social stuff would be nice. That’s always been kind of hard for me. I’d really love to get better at relaxing. Everyone says I’m gonna burn out someday if I don’t slow down. I want to be a politician, so I’ll need to get better about my work/life balance.”

He nodded. “Social interaction. Relaxing. Work/life balance. Those are all great things to work towards. Let’s start with relaxing - what do you feel is the problem there?”

She thought for a bit, and the doctor let her think, which was nice. She often felt conversations moved too fast, like no one could stand comfortable silence like she so often preferred. Pearl liked to chatter, her parents were too busy to idle much, and her friends were, well… teenagers. Noisy. Busy. Constantly talking. And that made it hard to keep up because... “I think my mind is always racing. I always feel like I should be doing something, like I should be more productive, not waste my time and be prepared for whatever’s coming.”

“That’s very common,” he said. “Learning how to take a breath and unwind can be something a lot of people need help with.”

But that wasn’t it. Because lots of people didn’t have their brain searching for exits in crowded rooms. Lots of people didn’t think about what could be used as a weapon, should the need arise. Lots of people didn’t grab for work because when everything went still, they remembered things that they didn’t want to remember.

“It’s not just that, though. I, um, left out a piece. Sorry, I know I’m supposed to be honest for this to work.” She paused for a scolding, paused for a shaming, her shoulders aching with tension and neck prickling with an oncoming fear of reprimand, but nothing came.

Her mouth opened, but the words froze in her throat. She pushed them out, “A lot of times, when I’m not doing anything, I have a lot of worries, bad memories. Not really flashbacks. I know where I am. I think about bad stuff and I hate it. When Steven first started telling me about all the stuff he could have I did some research and I think I might’ve dissociated a couple times. Everything was far away and muffled and weird.” And then, with a gasp, with fear hot and boiling and flooding into the rest of her mind, she said, “but only a couple times! But it’s not a huge all-time thing. It’s not a big problem.”

“A lot of people will experience dissociation in their lives, especially during or after traumatic moments,” he said gently. His pen moved as he talked, just a few words, a sentence or two, so casual and practiced in a very soothing kind of way. “Just like how being depressed after watching a loved one pass is a completely normal way of coping. I don’t know what you’ve read online, but most things we refer to as disorders are extreme forms of normal coping mechanisms. Experiencing a single symptom once or twice doesn’t necessarily mean you fit that diagnosis.”

She eyed him, a bit suspiciously. It was different from other doctor’s appointments, where so quickly there would be drawn blood and guesses at a disease and prescription papers ripped from a pad. “So you’re not going to try to give me a bunch of meds because some weird stuff happened one or twice?”

“It might be months or years before I diagnose anything, if ever,” Dr. Morris said, one of his hands waving the idea away with a shake of his head. “That could change depending on your symptoms, whether we feel medication is the right path for you. But with the magic you were regularly involved with, I’m hesitant to dive headfirst into non-magic psychology and apply it all to you.”

Connie frowned. “But isn’t it just the same as any normal war vet? What’s it matter if they were gems or people?”

Dr. Morris reached to his desk, just out of sight, with a shuffling over papers. She presumed to another page of notes. “Connie, my specialty is magic psychology. The vast majority of my clients are people who have, in some way, been altered or affected by corrupted gems, gem artifacts, or other life or objects suspected to have unearthly origins. That’s the reason why I’m working with you and Steven.”

His eyes moved, reading something, and he nodded to himself as he continued, “From what I’ve gathered from conversations with the two of you, you were regularly healed by Steven’s magic, had several psychic experiences with him, spent time _inside_ of Pearl’s gem and regularly fuse into Stevonnie. All of these factors make me hesitant to apply typical human psychology or biology to every problem.”

“Oh.” Connie ran a hand through her hair with a little laugh, feeling stupid and small and wrong. “Right. Lots of inhuman stuff.”

“You may have interacted with inhuman items, but _you_ are not inhuman,” Dr. Morris emphasized. “Every patient I have is unique, Connie, and it’s rare to have a person who perfectly fits in the box of a diagnosis, even without the involvement of magic. If having a word would make you more comfortable, I’m happy to work towards one. I’m happy to have medication at the forefront of our minds or at the back. Whatever works best for you.”

She bit her lip. Not inhuman. Not wrong. But he was a specialist, so didn’t that mean it was something different? Didn’t that mean there was extra training? She fought the urge to curl up and hug her knees to her chest, murmuring, “I just… I don’t understand why you’d want to treat it different at all.”

He leaned onto his desk. “Let’s take something like fusion. In a non-magical situation, wanting to share a single body with your partner would be a desire that could be extremely concerning. But, in this magical situation, it’s often an experience you would find positive, rewarding, and natural.” 

She nodded as he spoke, and his smile grew. Not mocking, not condescending, just happy to be with her, happy to help. She kept searching for the expectation, listening carefully for the test that was sure to come at the end as he continued, “I don’t want to jump to any conclusions about what’s disordered and what’s healthy for you based on a non-magical person’s life. You deserve the chance to be heard out and worked with, and you deserve a space to feel safe talking about all your experiences, good and bad, magical or non-magical, without thinking that the magical parts of your life were inherently wrong.”

It would have been nice to thank him, to agree, but she pushed straight out of the gate because she always pushed. “I have a psychic connection with Lion,” she said stubbornly, waiting for him to laugh, to call her crazy, to shove her aside. “He comes when I call. He knows when I’m upset. The only person I’m closer to is Steven. Lion’s not quite a person, but he’s not _not_ a person, and he’s one of my best friends.”

Dr. Morris smiled. “It sounds nice to have a companion like that. Does he help you relax?”

She was still stiff, still on guard, and nodded curtly, because it was coming. She was sure it was coming. That part of her life was a secret, was wrong, wasn’t human, and any second he would tell her so. Any second he would tell her she was crazy. Her voice came out angrier than she wanted. “Yeah. He takes care of me a lot, more than anyone else except Steven.”

“Why don’t we start from there?” he suggested lightly. “If Lion helps you relax, we can work through why that is. We can take what we learn from that and find new strategies for you to use to take a break.”

The tension in her eased a little, and the conversation flowed. The shallow river of her thoughts seemed to stretch, dig deeper and wider as the words kept coming, as an adult listened without judgement, with encouragement, with kindness, until she finally found herself saying, “Lion’s not a person. I don’t feel like I need to be the strong one or protect him all the time because he’s not a person. I think I might feel more equal with him than anyone else.”

Her heart stopped, and her chest ached with embarrassment and fear and pain. Hey eyes shut tight and she whispered, “I need to take a break.”

She waited again for the scolding, for the reprimand. How was she supposed to get better if she didn’t work at it? How was she ever going to improve if she didn’t rip through the pain and push with everything she had? But Dr. Morris nodded, calm as ever, and encouraged, “Take your time.”

* * *

**Session 2**

_Well, it’s Steven’s road trip and_

_I know Steven never got the breaks I did_

_See, Steven never even got to go to school so I_

_Steven needs someone to take care of him._

_Steven went through a lot_

_Steven is_

_Steven was_

_Steven’s going to be_

“Connie, we have spent half this session talking about Steven no matter how many times I try to direct you back to yourself,” Dr. Morris said, patient as ever despite how many times they had to guide the conversation back to her “You are allowed to talk about your problems without comparing them to Steven’s.”

She faltered, because it felt so wrong to bring anything painful up without Steven. He was there, wasn’t he? And it was worse for him, always worse, and she couldn’t just talk about herself when he was aching. She couldn’t think about herself when he was hurt. She was his knight. She was the only person there for him.

Connie tried to sum it up. “I just think his problems are more important.”

“Let’s talk about that.”

* * *

**Session 5**

Connie sat in a pile of pillows at a very fancy cabin. They had gotten a good deal on it, so far out of the way that the internet was satellite and there wasn’t indoor plumbing and electricity came through patchy. Still, it meant that her therapy sessions got to be spent in a very, very fancy sofa surrounded by a pile of pillows, and she didn’t have to worry about Steven being bored in a nowhere city.

She held a pillow to her chest the way she’d hold a stuffed animal as she talked to the just high enough quality Dr. Morris stream. It was almost a little easier to talk about things with his face a bit fuzzy but his sweet voice as comforting as ever.

“I think it’s just easier to have everything be about him, you know?” Connie said, because it was yet another session about Steven. But not exactly, lately. It was about how _she_ felt about Steven, and not musing on how Steven felt. That was something, wasn’t it? Progress? “No one ever really looked at me. No one paid attention to me. I’ve always felt like that’s the way it’s supposed to be. So when people started looking, I thought, well… of course they’re looking at Steven. At Stevonnie. It’s not _me_ , because no one would.”

He asked, “Do you want people to look at you?”

She swallowed, rolling onto her back and staring at the exposed wooden beams above. “ _Some_ people. I… I do want Steven to care for me the way I’ve been caring for him. I want the attention. I just don’t know how to ask for it. I don’t know how to accept it. I don’t know how to feel like I deserve it at all after…”

“After what?”

The name stuck to her tongue, refusing to budge. Pale skin and a voice that sang purer than a flute and _strictness_ but matched with so much comfort, so much praise. There was no way to say it, no way to have her name in this quiet, empty room, even miles away from her. After a while, she managed, “After knight training.”

“Knight training. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Connie closed her eyes, because the world was slipping away. Her own body wasn’t hers, her brain snipped from the stem as she became more of a passenger than a person, as talking and listening was suddenly a herculean effort. “I-I want to talk about how to let people help me. I keep dodging Steven. If I could just figure out how to stop hiding, that’d be enough. If I could just let him see me get hurt, I know he’d help. I don’t know how. Can you help me with that? Just help me get to the place where I don’t run away.”

“I can.”

* * *

At three in the morning, Steven was woken up by a confusing sound in the bed beside him. He was frozen for a moment, hearing a shuddering gasp, a miserable sob muffled by a pillow, and froze up for a moment. He had seen Connie cry before, seen tears wiped away, heard the hurt whimpers from the sting of a broken bone. He had never heard the chest-wracking sobs she was making now - an awful, choking sound that sliced through his breast, grabbed his heart, and clutched it so he couldn’t feel it beat.

He scrambled into her bed, voice already ragged, “Connie, what’s wrong?”

“Bad dream,” she gasped.

Blue light, and the bed creaked with the weight of Lion crawling up beside them. He crooned, big soft eyes looking down at her. Connie curled up, clutching the pillow to her face as the sobs started fresh, every new one a vice around his chest, taking his breath away in shared misery. Empathy was always a burden, but empathy for his miserable partner was a more searing knife than he ever could have thought.

He stroked her back, his voice low and even. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’ve got you, Connie. We’re here.”

“I hate it,” she managed, voice strangled with tears and rage. “I _hate_ this.”

He scooped her up, her body limp against his as he stroked her hair, held her close, and wished he could do anything to stop the sobbing and skip to the end. He hadn’t liked it either, the weeks and months where all his worst feelings were laid bare to the world, where the things he pushed down were instead pulled up into a constant, looming mess he had to deal with.

But, at the end, he was better when he stopped holding it back. Steven rocked with her. “I know it hurts, but it’s gonna get better. _You’re_ gonna get better.”

Her fingers curled into his shirt. “I feel _disgusting._ Pathetic. I don’t want to _be_ like this. I don’t _want_ to work through it!” She gasped as she buried her face against him, a choked whine came from her throat as she swallowed down more tears. “I’m glad it’s dark so you can’t see me like this.”

“Do you really think I’ll care if you’re ugly when you cry?” he said.

“Not ugly. Weak.” There was only so much she could stop, and the sob came again, hard enough that he felt her body shake from the effort of it. “I’m supposed to be _better_ for you.”

“No,” he whispered. “Sometimes you’ve gotta be weak. You’ve gotta let people take care of you. When we first met, I saw lots of weak parts. I loved them, just like you loved the monster part of me.”

Lion crooned again, his nose nuzzling at her back over his arms, and set off a stream of sobs again. Steven murmured, “What’d you dream about? Was it him? Do you need me to send him away?”

“No! Don’t send him!” she cried, shouting in his ear as her voice cracked. He winced but held her steady. “I need him here, Steven, please. I need to know he’s okay. Please don’t make him go. Not him. Never him. He’s such a good boy, _please_.”

Steven swallowed. “Did you have a bad dream about Lion?” She nodded against him, and, sure of the answer, he asked, “Did he get hurt?”

Her answer was the most broken sound he’d ever heard from her, a fractured whimper as she shook. “He died.”

He rocked her softly, the sobs easing. He asked her to tell him about it, and she did. He slid her softly to Lion, watching as she clung to him, buried her face in the warm reassurance that he was there. She’d dreamt of a massive blue hand aiming for her steed instead of her sword. Connie had seen Lion’s undamaged body on the ground, safe for a moment, until a cough. She’d dreamt of blood, staining the sand and her hands and her arms, hot and dark. It had been a dream but she had felt their connection ebb, melt, fade from her entirely.

She’d dreamt of Pearl’s hand clutching her hair. She was dragged from the body, her ankles kicking frantically in the sand as she begged to be let go, to go back to his side. She had felt white iron arms across her chest, and blinding light, and Pearl’s voice in her ear hissing, “It was supposed to be _you_.”

“Is this the first time you’ve had a dream that bad?” he asked. She shook her head, which hurt, and he asked with more worry, “Is it the first time on the trip?”

“No,” she whispered, and he hated the shame in her voice. “I can usually keep it together long enough to sneak outside. It’s only happened three times.”

“Why couldn’t you sneak outside tonight?” he murmured.

“I could’ve. I didn’t… I wanted to…” Words failed her, and she could only say, “This was the best I could do. Not running away.”

“That’s enough.” He promised. Steven leaned against Lion with her, let the comforting presence that flickered between them remind him everyone was there. Lion’s point, hot and dry. Connie’s point, warm and heavy. The connection wobbled between the magical and the physical, and he rubbed her back. “I’m always gonna be here, whenever you need me I’m here.”

Connie leaned against him, kissing his cheek with wet lips. “I knew you would be.”

* * *

**Session 9**

It had been a long, long day. Long enough she almost canceled on Dr. Morris. She didn’t know what had possessed her and Steven to think that altitude sickness would not apply to them, that being young, in-shape kind of people would mean that a long hike would be easy. It had not, and her muscles hadn’t ached so bad since knight training. And thinking about knight training had, on and off, sent her back to that place.

The memory was always a little off - some Connie out of a storybook had gotten trained. Sometimes the memory felt like it had happened just yesterday, sometimes it felt like it had happened so long ago it was impossible for it to be her. The feeling of that memory often tarnished the present, making everything surreal and weird. It was fun, at least, to capture that feeling in writing and drawing, and present something to Steven that made him go “woah” or send it to friends back home and get emails like “sooo did you sneak some weed out there…?”

“It’s weird, I guess, because some of the stuff I use for fusion and with Lion kind of comes up outside of that,” Connie said, because she was too exhausted to be clever, and had spent a whole day in surrealness that made fusion easier to describe. “Fusion feels… I mean, I can’t really describe all of it, but Stevonnie doesn’t feel like my body. I’m in there, and I’m mostly controlling it, but I’m also disconnected? And Lion is the same way sometimes, with the world going all fuzzy and fantasy.”

Dr. Morris hesitated, his pen stilling on the paper for a moment. Which she noticed, because she noticed everything, though the sleepiness in her body (which Steven could tragically not kiss away) limited her reaction to a raised eyebrow as he asked, “You get those feelings outside of the magic events? Could you tell me a little more about that?”

“It’s, um…” Connie’s hands waved over her chest as she thought, searched for the right words. “Sometimes, it’s just that everything feels like a fantasy world. Or maybe a horror world? I can’t explain it well. Everything just feels off and fake, like I’m in a movie or a book or something. Or sometimes it’s like time is warped, and it’s like I’m teleporting into the future by a couples minutes, or a couple hours.”

She laughed, putting her hand to her forehead. “Or sometimes it works in reverse! My memories can feel like they happened at the wrong time, forever ago, or like they didn’t even happen to me. It’s so weird.

“And sometimes, the worst is that I don’t feel like…” She snapped a few times as she searched for the explanation. “Oh! It’s the opposite of fusion and Lion. It’s not that I’m _all_ feelings. It’s like I can’t feel _anything_. Like everyone else is getting to be these cool heroes and living these emotional lives, and there’s some kind of force field keeping me out, keeping my feelings out of my body, and that I’m separate from everyone.”

Dr. Morris had his pen moving again. “When did this start?”

“Not long after I started sword training. Maybe a little before? Maybe always. I’ve always been kind of emotionally closed off.” She laughed a little, wincing at too many memories of sitting alone at lunch, of almost making a friend before being dragged off to a new town. “But I know it got really frustrating after sword training, more like I couldn’t control it, less fun fantasizing. It’s something that happens to me and not something I choose.”

“When these feelings aren’t magically intertwined, they cause you distress?” he asked. She nodded and he continued, “How often does this happen?”

“A couple times a week. More if I’m really stressed,” Connie said, rolling on her side and propping up her head. “Can you help with that? I feel like it gets in the way of studying, and sometimes it gets in the way of social stuff and…” Her eyes widened as it clicked into place, all the questions, the touch of concern in his eyes. “This isn’t normal. This is a _thing_.”

“With magic involved, we can’t say what’s normal for you, only what’s healthy. If you’re struggling, we’ll find ways to fix it,” Dr. Morris said, and, apparently knowing her well enough by now, continued with an explanation, “The reason for the questions and concern is because what you’re describing sounds like derealization, maybe some depersonalization. They’re forms of dissociation.”

She swallowed. “Do you think the magic did it?”

He tucked his pen behind his ear, folding his hands in his lap with a little shrug. ”It’s hard to say. This could be something you learned to do through Stevonnie and Lion, or mastered through them since you might have experienced similar things before meeting them. You could have a natural aptitude for these forms of self-hypnosis and that’s why those magic things came easy to you. We can’t say, but I’m not here to demonize those experiences, Connie. They’re positive moments for you, and moments I’m sure you’d like to continue experiencing.”

He held out a hand to her. “But, outside of the magical moments, they’re an issue. All I want is to help you control it outside of those magical moments so you can live your life the way you want. That’s the goal here.”

Connie nodded, closing her eyes. “Sorry I… it’s a lot to take in. I’ve been doing this for years. I… I might’ve always done it and I thought it was just because I was kind of stressed. I’m _dissociating_ all the time and I thought that was just… normal human stuff. I even _like_ it sometimes! When I can skip over bad stuff and not feel for a while.”

“It’s a coping mechanism, a tool your brain might use to protect itself. It’s understandable that you might find that a nicer experience than whatever your brain is trying to avoid. It’s okay.” He said, and he leaned forward with that ever encouraging smile. “We’re going to work on this together. It’s very manageable.”

“Thank you,” Connie said. “You said I should be honest, right? About everything?”

He nodded. “It’s the best way for me to help you.”

“It’s happened in sessions before. I feel it coming on right now,” she confessed. Her fingers dug into her wrist, careful not to hurt though she longed to pinch a little, to snap herself out of the dream. “I can feel the glass coming down, like all my emotions are going away, like I’m getting into the controls of my body instead of being in it.”

It didn’t phase him at all. No panic, no nerves - he was calm as her mother whenever Connie had gotten herself scratched or cut or broken as a child. He was an expert, and that was wonderfully reassuring. “Then we’ll start with some techniques right now. Do you have ice in your room?” When she confirmed, he said, “Go hold an ice cube. The cold can help keep you tied to reality. I’ll talk you through some other ways once you start coming down.”

* * *

Mountains were gorgeous. Really, they should have taken a break from the mountains. They should have slowed and let their bodies adjust. But Connie, for all her early life traveling, had rarely seen mountains as her family moved about the east coast. And Steven, for all his magic adventures, had seen mountains mostly in the distance, rather than up close and in person and truly being a speck on a giant hill.

So they went right back to the mountain hikes, and they learned no lessons, other than bringing a lot more water and a lot more snacks and laughing to themselves as they insisted that _this_ time they’d go slower and take it easy and it’d be fine.

It was not fine.

“Do you need a break?” Steven asked, looking back at her with a bright smile and barely any heavy breathing or sweat.

“ _Why_ aren’t you tired?” Connie panted, her eyes narrowed with frustration as she clung to the branch she was using as a walking stick. She had chewed her way through three meal bars, four packets of sunflower butter, and two boxes of raisins, and yet _he_ was the one who was somehow finding a deeper well of strength.

He laughed sheepishly, lifting up his shirt and jacket to show the dimly glowing gem beneath. “I’ve been switching back and forth between Diamond strength and floating. I was pretty sure I couldn’t handle this hike fully human today.”

“ _Steee_ ven!” she groaned, sinking miserably to the ground. “Steven, why’d you let us go off the trail when you have me here? I don’t have a gem!”

“Because I can definitely float and bubble us out of any danger,” he said with a grin as he sat with her. He took her walking stick from where it fell, giving it a delighted twirl. “Come on, just because I’m learning how to be human doesn’t mean I’ve gotta ditch all the fun magic stuff. If you want, I can give you a piggyback ride.”

Connie stuck her tongue out at him and dug into her bag for water. One for him, one for her, and they drank greedily as they caught their breaths. She shook her head. “Forget it. We’re basically lost in the middle of nowhere. I think we can call it a day and turn around.”

Steven hesitated a second, then said, “You know, um… I wasn’t joking? There’s a lot of cool stuff out here to explore. If you get tired or need breaks, I’m happy to carry you around. I’m not making fun of you.”

“Oh.” She curled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. Helpful. Sweet. Kind. All he wanted was to help. She knew that, had always known. Steven would be there no matter what was wrong, as long as she brought it up, as long as she gave him permission.

She listened to the still world around them. Birdsong was light in the air, an occasional puff of wind stirring up some leaves. Somewhere water was gurgling - a distant rush of sound that she could have lost herself in, if she wanted to be lost. It was beautiful and empty and alone. Mostly alone.

Connie smiled at him. “Hey, Steven, I… you don’t have to answer, but I’ve been wondering lately. With the magic stuff under control, what’s still left for you in therapy?”

“I mean, the magic stuff was under control basically the second I talked about it with everyone. I think the gem stuff was just a cry for help, you know?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Therapy was for actually solving problems. Um, I started getting some flashbacks - only when I got triggered really bad, so that was more manageable, at least. The mood swings suck the most. Or mood issues? I don’t remember what they’re called. Basically I get mad way easier than I used to, sometimes for no reason, and I have to deal with it.”

He dug in his own bag, pulling out chocolate peanut butter cups. “The nightmares are better, but you know they still happen. Um… the depression is mostly gone now, which is nice. For a while I really couldn’t feel anything but sad and I couldn’t enjoy anything, but that went away. So now I mostly go and I talk about the future and I talk about feelings, and it’s just nice. I think once I hit the year mark I’m gonna try dropping it down to once a month or every other week.”

She swallowed. “That all sounds really hard.”

“I guess. But, you know, that’s life.” He popped a cup in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Sometimes, you just live with stuff so long it’s not even a thing anymore. I know stuff’ll get easier to deal with, I’ll keep getting better, but this is life now. My brain does this stuff, and I’ve just gotta deal with it, you know?”

“Maybe?” she said. But that was an opening, a chance, and she summoned up her courage with a deep breath. “Steven, I… I’m not having stuff like you.”

He nodded, sucking some chocolate off his finger before heading in for the second cup. He spoke with his mouth full, but politely held his hands up over his face so she wouldn’t see the mess within. “I know. You never get mad like me.”

“No, I…” She swallowed, closing her eyes. How was she supposed to explain? She pushed the words out but they were jumbled and messy. “I don’t have flashbacks where I forget where I am, or big mood swings, and I don’t get nightmares as bad as you. I, um… I-I do this thing where I… Hold on.”

Connie might not have the right words, but she knew who did. Her fingers moved quickly over her phone. Internet struggled in the woods, chugging slowly as it reached for satellites, but the page managed to load, and she pushed it to him. Not perfect, not everything, but it was a start. His eyes read over the page that explained her symptoms, that would better put to words what she was going through than she could at the moment.

“There’s different types of dissociating. I’m doing these, and I’m doing them a lot and… I feel like you should know.” and then, because she was putting a burden on him, because it wasn’t fair, she added, “I feel like maybe… I know it’s not like your stuff, but maybe knowing what’s happening to me will make me less frustrating, or you might be able to deal with me better, or…”

“Hold on. I’m a slow reader.” His hand held hers as her heart thudded, and for some stupid reason tears were burning at her eyes again and fear tugged at her heart. Because her emotions turning off weren’t as bad as emotions being too big. Because flashbacks were so much worse than things not feeling real. Because here he was, getting better, and here she was, dragging him into the pit with her as she struggled to crawl out.

And then he set her phone down, and he held her tight, and he whispered, “That all sounds really hard.”

She swallowed, trying to smile. “That’s something we’re the same in. It just feels like life to me.”

“Are you telling me so I can help you?” he asked, hope in every syllable, hope in his face as he pulled back and looked at her. She felt her breath catch at how genuine it was, how she could see no judgement or anger or disgust in his face - just the real desire to help he always had. “Is it my turn to take care of you?”

She didn’t want it to be, really. She didn’t want to agree and let him do whatever it was he’d been dying to do. She didn’t want to be doted on, to have his attention so fully on her when she couldn’t imagine how she deserved it. It didn’t make sense to have him care for her, when she was still so sure in her heart that it was her purpose to care for him.

But Lars and Steven and Dr. Morris had all said it wasn’t, so Connie whispered, “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got carried away with healing and fluff so there's 21 chapters now, lol.
> 
> ANYWAY, I've been going through trying to collect all the fanart. Go through previous chapters and check out the amazing art and comics I've added to the story! If you like any of the art, follow the links. Follow these amazing people, let them know how much you like them, support the artists in our community.
> 
> And, as always, I'm mostly on Tumblr and I'm not super aware. So if you ever have fan art you'd like to have added here from any website, you can hit me up @universallywriting on Tumblr, or Hadithi#4699 on Discord!


	17. Pampered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie lets Steven pamper her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art from the adorable [Doodling Otaku!](https://doodling-otaku.tumblr.com/post/619038478501560320/a-smol-comic-based-on-universallywriting-amazing)

Watching Steven’s morning routine hadn’t gotten old yet. It was its own kind of relaxing to watch him go through the motions each morning of shaving a few stubbly hairs to baby smoothness, then going through the rest of the process of getting ready for the day. Today she sat on the closed toilet, legs crossed as she watched him with an amused little smile. “How do you spend this much time every day cleaning your face?”

He laughed as his hands moved. The cream he was rubbing in went from white to shining clear to nothing as it slowly absorbed into his skin. “It’s, like, ten minutes!”

“Exactly!” she said. Connie hopped up, grabbing one of the bottles on the counter. She sniffed it curiously, enjoying one of the many scents that made up the cleanliness she associated with him. “What’s all this stuff do, anyway? Don’t you wash your face in the shower? Why do you have to wash it again every morning?”

He moved through the bottles on his sink, tapping each as he explained. “Okay this is a cleanser. It gets all the gross stuff off your skin - dirt, sweat, dead skin, oil. You want something neutral that doesn’t have a lot of weird stuff in it. Then you have your actives. I have some acne, so I have this gentle VHA that I use, really low acid, you know?”

“Yeah, totally,” she said with a grin. “Gotta get that low acid. High acid is just… psh.” She whipped her hand to the side, rolling her eyes with faux knowledge.

He grinned, flushing slightly as he continued on. “And then I have a light toner to keep my skin from getting too oily, and a moisturizer to keep everything soft and hydrated all day. And then I just throw on a bit of perfume and I’m done. Pretty boy Steven Universe, at your service.”

Connie grabbed her own bathroom bag and held up a pink bottle of sakura blossom body wash. “Cleanser. Apply from head to toe. Rinse off. Handsome girl Connie Maheswaran, at your service.”

Steven reached out with an envious pout and smooshed her cheeks. “Where’s all your acne?”

“Don’t have it,” she said smugly. “Naturally stable skin.”

Steven frowned. “Hold on, what’s that?”

Her eyes widened as he leaned forward, his eyes keenly examining something on her face. “What’s what?”

“You’ve got something on your lips. It’s…” He closed the gap between them, a quick and flirty peck on her lips before he pulled back with a wink. He was red to his ears, but a huge silly grin spread over his face. “It was a kiss. I got it off you.”

Heat bloomed on her own cheeks as she giggled and pushed his shoulder. “You flirt! Is this what being knowledgeable does to you? Better avoid any fancy soap stores or you’ll sweep me off my feet.”

“That’s it!” Steven cried.

She raised an eyebrow as she tucked her soap away. “Steven, I’m already in love with you.”

“No, not that. I know that.” He said cheerfully, “I’ve been trying to figure out how to pay you back for Seattle. You know, really go out of my way to cheer you up.”

“You don’t need to pay me back.” Connie shook her head, even as her chest filled with a wonderful giddiness just from the idea that he’d been thinking of her. He’d been a little more doting than usual, and she was trying to be better about allowing him to cheer her up. Still, the idea of time completely dedicated to her was still an almost taboo thrill.

“But I want to!” he insisted, and turned back to the sink as he packed up the little bottles from his morning ritual. “I’ve been stuck because I keep thinking about all the stuff you love, but the cool thing was the stuff I never thought of before. So what if I show you stuff that you never thought of before?”

Connie said cautiously, “Soap? Steven, how much mileage can you get out of soap?”

He grinned, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I really like spa days. A _lot_. I’ve been to a bunch of them before you joined up on the trip. That’s one of the ways I learned about skincare stuff. It’s really fun and really relaxing. And you want to learn to relax, right?”

“I do,” she admitted.

“Well, I’m great at that!” Steven’s chest puffed out with pride, and he stood a little straighter. “I got all the gems to take breaks with me. I got _Peridot_ to take a break! I know I had a lot of stress and problems, but I’ve always been really good at taking stuff slow. Let me spend the whole day pampering you.”

Connie bit gently at her lip as she thought. Spas weren’t really her thing. They were extravagant, luxurious, full of spiritualist and new age nonsense and bad science to sell their fancy smelling products. But she hadn’t ever been to one, and Steven was eager. He’d trusted her about the science center, and they’d had a great time.

She nodded and tried to stay open-minded. “Alright, Mr. Universe. Show me what being pampered is like.”

Things rushed by in a whirl as they headed out. She drove as Steven called around to spas, trying to see if any of the fancier ones were open for walk-ins until he lucked out. It was somewhere downtown, so Steven quickly searched up a fancy bakery as well, and they split fancy pastries and traded sips of their odds coffee drinks (a lavender latte for Steven and a tumeric cortado for Connie, and they both regretted their choices) before heading to Summer Sky Spas.

Inside was quiet and still, the receptionist waving and smiling as they walked in, then letting them explore the little shop in front. They moved through little knick-knacks, sponges, shampoos and odd-smelling soaps. They giggled, passing different bottles back and forth as they picked out their favorites that they’d love to smell every day, and bottles that they swore would ensure the other would never get a hug again.

“I know that this stuff isn’t really… Dr. Maheswaran approved.” Steven chuckled as he fiddled with one of the aromatherapy oils - some kind of odd flower blend called _Evening Bloom_. “I know this stuff isn’t real medicine or medical science.”

“Yeah. Mom avoided all this kind of stuff,” Connie said, carefully sniffing some sandalwood. It was bizarre, but pleasant. Most of the good smells in her life were the more chemically scents of grocery store soaps or the heavenly scent of cooking food.

“I don’t think it’s medicine at all. Not, you know, traditional medicine. It’s just nice. Like soul medicine.” He smiled as he put the bottles back, and she mimicked his actions. “Smelling nice stuff makes me happy. My skin being soft makes me happy. Getting a massage and relaxing for an hour is nice and fun. I don’t know if there’s any toxins or if it’s fixing my muscles or whatever, but sometimes it’s okay to like stuff just because it feels good.”

Connie shook her head. “I know it’s okay to take a break but… doesn’t it always feel like the world’s gonna end when you take a nap?”

“Yeah.” He tugged her up to the counter with a shrug. “But at least I’ll die well-rested.”

The receptionist smiled at them, a wire-thin woman who handed them pamphlets. Apparently it was a _menu,_ which Connie thought was very odd for a list of services. She tried to hold back her skepticism as she read over everything. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but everything involved so much _touching_. Of course Steven liked it, friendly and personable and always eager to hug, but she was a little less sure of someone’s hands all over her. 

“Oh!” Steven said eagerly, holding up the pamphlet. “Couple’s massage!”

The receptionist raised her eyebrow, not even bothering to hide her patronizing tone. “That involves the two of you in the same room stripping to your comfort level before it begins. Is that alright, hun?”

Two red faces awkwardly looked away from one another, and Connie focused on her pamphlet as she cleared her throat. "Um, maybe not that then. But what's that mean? Stripping to your comfort level?" 

The condescension vanished, replaced with a warmer smile. "It means you can leave all your clothes on or take all of them off. There’s no judgment for either decision. Most people choose to strip to just their underwear, usually topless, to let the masseuse have access to as much bare skin as possible."

Connie shifted uncomfortably at the thought of any level of undressing. They weren’t exactly medical professionals, weren’t exactly necessary to get some kind of diagnosis. She focused harder on the menu as she tried to imagine what it would be like, even with all her clothes on. "Okay and… And you just lay there on a table while they touch you? And you don't talk and there's just music playing and it's totally quiet?" _Alone with your thoughts._

"Hey," Steven said, touching her hand, disrupting her racing mind before it had the chance to take off. He was warm and steady beside her as he said more quietly, "This is for fun. If that all sounds really uncomfortable, forget that. Why don't you do… a pedicure or a manicure.”

Connie smiled a little. “We’ve done those together before.”

“Yeah!” he said eagerly, giving her hand a squeeze. “You can talk to the person doing it the whole time, and you don’t have to take off any clothes. Oh, you could even listen to your own music or a podcast or something if that helps. They don’t mind any of that. And they do hand and foot massages too!"

"So I guess I don't need to dive into the deep end." She looked at the more detailed descriptions of the treatments - sugar scrubs and cute designs and hot towels all included in her nail painting. That didn’t sound bad at all.

"Just skip the facial stuff. I want to try doing it myself at home. I've got all the supplies ready to go. Or most of them.” He looked around the room and hummed to himself. “And maaaaybe some aromatherapy stuff I'll pick up before we leave. Or a couple of different creams, you know, so we don’t just smell like the same person."

“Are you just gonna shop?” she teased.

“Nope. Can I get the hot stone massage? The ninety-minute one?” Steven asked. The receptionist nodded, confirming with Connie that she wanted the mani-pedi, then put in all their appointments into her computer. He looked at her with a little giggle, saying, “I will see you _later_."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought _you_ were supposed to be pampering me, and now you're gonna vanish and let a bunch of strangers do it?" 

His credit card was between his fingers, back with that bravado he had somehow cultivated when it came to everything being taken care of with the swipe of some plastic. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the grandeur of it, especially as he continued in a very pretentious voice, "There are _many_ types of pampering. Consider this Level One. The pampering will get more intense throughout the day."

Connie burst into giggles.

* * *

The mani-pedi was weirder than she expected. The people who did her hands and nails were very sweet, but it really was _pampering_. The only bit of action she got on her own was picking out nail polish colors from a huge wall. From there, she was guided to a big, cushiony chair that she sunk down into, and handed a remote to do whatever massage treatment the electric motors beneath could provide.

As she settled into the rollers pushing at her back, the tub her bare feet were in filled with hot water. That was fairly nice, especially because they left her alone to enjoy it all. And then there was a woman at her feet, washing everything up to her knees (and making her feel just the slightest bit self-conscious that she didn’t make a habit of shaving her legs).

She tried to remember that this was someone very specifically paid to take care of her, but that didn’t banish the strangeness of someone washing her like she couldn’t do it herself. It didn’t help either that the woman had a go at her callouses, and the weirdness of that feeling had made her squeal and nearly leap out of the chair.

But, once the initial shock was gone, she was able to settle back. Everything was scrubbed in a very pleasant kind of way, and soon her toenails were painted with a pretty dark blue, with the big nails having some fancier art that made it look like a beach. She’d gushed over it, thanking the artist profusely, and she had seemed pretty happy about that.

She mimicked it with the person who did her manicure, trying to open up earlier, trying to chat as the person rubbed tension from her hands. They looked impressed, smiling brightly as they felt the muscle there. “Powerful hands. How’d you get these?”

Connie laughed a little. “Um, sword fighting. Tennis. A lot of climbing.”

“Ooh, busy.” They winked. “How about we skip the scraping and scratching so you can keep all the rough parts intact? We’ll just do some extra hand massage instead. Feels like you need it.”

She agreed, and she talked. It was getting easier to be open, to be less strategic in her talks. It helped that everyone was strangers, and Dr. Morris had encouraged her to practice. If she said something stupid or weird or too enthusiastic, she’d never see the person again. It didn’t really matter. She tried to analyze less, to be more in the moment, and the strong smells of the spa and the feel of her hands being rubbed were so grounding that even the occasional triggering thing didn’t send her floating off.

Soon her nails were painted, a green field with splashes of white polka dots, and she did feel pretty. It did feel nice. Her hands smelled like sweet almond cookies, and all the scrubbing had somehow left her legs and feet feeling cleaner than normal.

She met Steven back in the lobby, a big bag of more supplies than he needed in hand, and he asked her, “Was it too much?”

Connie shook her head and beamed. “I want to do it again sometime. I think I might want to try a short massage, too. It was really fun!”

The brightness of his smile, the way he babbled about his own day and the things they could try in the future, was almost as good as the last couple hours of fun. Maybe better, with her best friend at her side again.

* * *

The pampering continued, as Steven was apparently not joking about things only getting more intense from there. They checked into a different hotel, a prettier one with a big tub. Steven laughed and insisted she not lift a finger, and she watched as he dumped in salts and bubble bath and set up some portable speakers for her music.

A kiss and he was gone again, insistent that she enjoy her hot bath while he ran off to… he wouldn’t say, despite her prodding, and Connie resigned herself to relaxing. Music left her alone with her thoughts too much - she apparently wasn’t a pro at this chilling out thing yet - so she listened to an audiobook and soaked and… enjoyed herself, actually.

By the time Steven came back, she was back in her clothes. Her body was warm and her muscles were loose, and she wondered if pampering included a nap in the middle of the day. She asked where he went, and he dodged her questions with silly answers and laughter as he set up an aromatherapy diffuser she guessed he had bought that morning.

“You’ll find out what I did later!” Steven said cheerfully. “Right now, I’ve got all the stuff for a facial ready. Like, a real one.”

“This is gonna be so weird,” Connie mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes and watching as Steven laid out a ludicrous display of facial materials. “Can we just do those mud mask things together like we usually do?”

“That’s not pampering you.”

“It’s basically pampering.”

“It’s not!” Steven laughed as he looked back at her, then bounced up on the springy mattress beside her. There was patience and concern on his face as he tenderly kissed her forehead and murmured, “Alright, Connie. I don’t wanna go too hard. Tell me all the stuff you’re feeling. What’s weird about me doing this?”

She chewed her lip, taking the time to analyze her feelings the way Dr. Morris had taught them both. “It’s weird because I’m not gonna know where to look, and you’re gonna be touching my face a lot for a long time while I don’t do anything and I…” She laughed and rubbed her cheeks, even ducking her head for good measure so she didn’t have to look him in the eye. “I don’t know how to let someone else do all the nice stuff. It doesn’t feel right to just let you do it.”

“Easy,” he whispered. “You’re gonna close your eyes. You’re not supposed to do anything except enjoy me touching your face. And you’ve gotta get used to TLC from me. It’s _kinda_ my thing, and I think I might actually lose it if I don’t get to take care of you.”

She grinned. “Oh, so I should let you take care of me for your sake?”

“No. For yours.” He nuzzled his nose against hers, and she eagerly returned the affection. “But you know if I said you need to learn how to let people take care of you, you would’ve gotten all wrinkly faced and nervous about it because you hate attention.”

“You know me too well,” she said, letting some playful scolding sneak into her voice.

“My record isn’t _perfect_ , but I’m pretty good.” He took her hands, admiring the beautiful job they’d done at the spa, or maybe just admiring her fingers. “I guess I just… I was so used to everyone telling me everything, all their problems, I didn’t realize I was supposed to be looking.”

Words hovered on her lips, that she wasn’t worthy of being looked at. And, before, she had kept them inside to let them fester. But now she countered them with patience and kindness, the kind she gave other people and Dr. Morris insisted she give herself. Connie thanked him, she tugged his chin forward and ghosted her lips over his, and held back from more because she was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be doing that sort of thing right now.

His fingers moved slowly over her scalp as gentle folk rock played behind them. Her hair was pulled out of her face in a French braid, his fingers skilled and tender so there was barely a tug. She laid down a towel over the hotel pillow and Steven sat behind her, his thick legs spread on either side of her head.

Connie was supposed to shut her eyes, but stared up at him as he grabbed at the supplies spread out around him. He grinned at her curious face and dropped a warm, wet towel with a quiet splat across her forehead and cheeks. She squeaked from under her new cover of warm darkness, “Hey!”

“Pretty sure I said eyes closed,” he teased. Steven’s hand came over the towel, gently rubbing it over her face, and she tried not to panic over the dark and the feel of something smothering her lips. It mostly worked, as her breathing stayed steady despite her heart racing in her chest. “Getting the skin wet and warm. It’ll open up your pores for all the nice stuff we’re gonna put on.”

“So I should just close my eyes and…?”

He set the towel aside with a giggle, looking lovingly exasperated as his eyes met hers. “Connie, oh my gosh. You do _nothing_. Relax! Your boyfriend is gonna massage your face for a long time and all you have to do is lay there.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Got it. Chill Connie. She exists.”

Connie hoped so, at least. His soft fingers ended in calluses from guitar strings, and with nothing to look at, her awareness focused down to the pressure of his thumbs, his fingers sliding over the sensitive skin of her face. It was Steven, and even still nerves buzzed in her chest every time he rubbed beneath her eyes (he could gouge), beneath her jaw (the vein that took blood to her brain) and her mouth (he could clamp his hand there and she’d been smothered so many times before).

The warm towel returned and pulled a sigh from her. It was easier the second time, more braced for the feeling, and she tried to sink into the more pleasant side of having soap washed from her face. Soon, that was replaced with cool air and peppermint filled her senses as another bottle popped.

His hands were back on her again, and of course Steven would never hurt her, but her mind had nothing to focus on but memories and nerves as his fingers spread tingling mint over her skin. She had thought she was managing to hide it alright when he murmured, “I noticed you were getting nervous. Do you want me to stay away from any spots?”

“Mmm-mmm,” she said, slightly shaking her head. “I got this. Just feels a little strange with nothing else to focus on. I’m used to all this touching being for combat stuff.”

“Oh.” He paused, and guilt immediately began to set in. Then, he said softly, “Can I try to make it feel like something else?”

She fought the urge to open her eyes. “Sure.”

A thrill sparked in her chest, curling down to her belly as his thumb slowly brushed over her lips. They tingled with the mint lotion on his finger, so her deep breath in filled her lungs with chemical coldness. He shifted, even with her eyes closed she felt the bed move, and her heart skipped a beat as everything went darker behind her eyelids, as his thumb was replaced with warm, soft lips. A skincare routine really did work wonders. 

She breathed deep. Her hand came up to hold the edge of his jacket, the weight and feel of the cloth familiar and comforting in her hands. His fingers slipped beneath her jaw, along her neck, but her brain was all too happy to switch gears. Everything was tingling mint and romantic touch, with fears of pain and choking whisked away.

“Better?” he asked, pulling away only just enough so their lips weren’t touching, and the absence of it left her too cold.

She nodded and asked, “One more?”

He kissed her again, and when his thumbs swept under her eyes, she sighed and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. The angle was weird upside down. She could have moved. She could have crawled into his lap, and toppled him into the bed, and kissed him for hours. It wouldn’t be relaxation, but it would be fun.

Her chest warmed more and more, her stomach clenching even as he pulled back. Every gentle touch a new kind of struggle as she tried to get her body to stop being so eager and yearning for more. His hands moved to her ears, rubbing firmly, and Connie was reminded of how his teeth had scraped there at the zoo, and wanting hit her hard and fast again.

She whimpered, face wrinkling up and feet shuffling on the bed. As always, Steven stopped everything instantly, though this time it was with a little laugh, “What, too weird with all the tingly stuff?”

Connie opened her eyes, her own hands covering her ears and sure she was blushing. “They’re just... sensitive. It’s a lot to take without making faces or noises and _you’re_ the one doing the touching.”

“Oh.” He reddened himself, looking away awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t want to push.”

“You’re not pushing,” Connie said quickly. Her hands dropped his jacket, resting over her heart as she tried to think of how to phrase it, how to say _I think I want you too badly to be responsible_ or _I’m just really scared I’ll get pregnant_ without sounding stupid, and instead said, “I-I could try kissing more. Because you said I don’t have to be the responsible one all the time, right? You could hold us back?”

He laughed. “Yeah! I can be the responsible one sometimes.” Steven cleared his throat, his light blush only getting worse as he mumbled, “I know I’ve been kissing you more, but I’m not really ready for a lot of stuff anyway. I’m not trying to… you know.”

She settled back into the mattress with a shy smile. That was a consolation, at least. Even if she was getting too out of control, she was sure that Steven would be able to hold them back if he wasn’t up for it. Consent was never a question between them. “Okay, then, um… let’s finish up the facial thing.”

* * *

They skipped lunch for snacks in the hotel room, cuddled up in bed while they tag-teamed on a strategy game. His weight was always hot beside her, comforting every time she let her head fall to his chest and listened to the quietly beating heart beneath. She fell asleep there, right in the middle of her game, and he fell asleep not long after.

The afternoon passed quickly, and they awoke with their massages undone and cricks in their necks and shoulders from the awkward position they had fallen asleep in. Steven scrambled for his phone, panicked, only to laugh with relief that they hadn’t overslept for their reservations - because of course he had made reservations.

Despite her protests that she hadn’t packed any pretty clothes, he promised her that whatever she wanted to wear would be fine. She was suspicious about that because places that required reservations always seemed to require nice clothes, but trusted him anyway. She found herself in some kind of modern place with a line out the window, and they both gushed and oohed and aahed over the dozen tiny plates they got to try.

She had expected that to be all the pampering she got for the day. It was more than enough, more than she ever could have expected, but Steven drove them out into the afternoon, to a quiet deserted road in the woods. Surrounded by trees and the setting sun, he insisted she hop out of the car, and pulled a simple gray messenger bag from the trunk. It was stylish, the kind of thing she could see anyone carrying around a campus.

“That’s the final level of pampering? You bought me a purse?” She laughed.

“No!” He flushed a little. “I mean, yes, but...I know you like to be prepared. And I know you like to be able to take care of stuff on your own. It’s like an emergency kit like I have if the car breaks down.”

She blinked, her fingers reaching out to brush the fabric. Connie thought for a second that she understood what it was, but she couldn’t have been right. He couldn’t have actually done what she had thought, not when everything was so new, not when she was still struggling to cope with the realization herself. She whispered, “I don’t get it.”

He flipped open the bag, pulling things out one by one, replacing them into their pouch when he finished explaining. “Here’s some earbuds with wires, so even if you forget to change your wireless ones you can listen to stuff on your phone to get away. Oh! And some power banks, so you don’t have to worry about deciding between saving your phone battery and listening to music.”

Her throat tightened. She _was_ right. Her voice came out very small, very flat, in a way that didn’t convey the slowly building storm of feelings inside her. “It’s a bag full of coping stuff.”

“Yeah! Um, I listened when you talked, a-and I did some research on my own,” he stuttered. She knew he wasn’t great at reading or research. She could only imagine the hours it took, the effort he had put in to figure it all out as he continued, “I don’t know what works best for you. I got, um, some really strong smelling lotion and hand sanitizer. There’s some strong tea if you’re in a spot you can make it, and there’s some food in there cuz I know you find that comforting.”

She nodded. “Yeah. It… I do.”

“Here in the front pouch there’s some strong-flavored stuff.” Even her small nod seemed to encourage him, brightening as he tugged out the boxes - powerful mints, extra strength gum, and super sour candy. He reached back into the big pouch, tilting the bag so she could better see inside. “There’s a coloring book in here, but I kinda ran out of space so there’s only a little box of crayons. But this one I’m really proud of - look.”

He juggled the bag to pull out a smaller bag, a pencil case, and when he unzipped it fabric swatches were rolled up inside. “It’s a bunch of little squares and they all have different textures you can feel and focus on, and you could touch them without anyone noticing, and take the little bag anywhere you want. No one would know.”

“I could,” she said, her voice quiet because if it was any louder it would crack. She was breathing, but it wasn’t enough. She was struggling to keep it quiet, but it wanted to come in sobs, in big breathy gasps.

“This is the last bit,” he said, tugging out a small journal with a little pen clipped to the cover. He slung the bag up on his back and stood beside her, paging through the journal. “I wrote down a bunch of exercises that help me a lot when I’m feeling kinda wound up, and there’s lots of blank pages if you just wanna get stuff out of your head.”

Steven paused, then slowly turned the little book all the way back to the inside cover. “And, here, the front page - I, um, thought you’d think it was nice, but if you don’t I could get a different journal and write something else.”

There in his messy but legible print he had written: _The empire is gone. There’s no one to fight. Steven is okay. Your family and friends love you very much. Call us._ And beneath were phone numbers of the people she talked to the most - him and her parents and friends from Beach City and her school, so even if her phone was out and her brain was too overwhelmed to think, she’d have a way to call.

As she flung her arms around him, a hiccuping sob burst from her, and he squeaked from the suddenness of it. There was too much to say, too much to think, and her face nuzzled into the warm crook of his neck where the sturdy muscle of his shoulder met the softness of the rest of him. He hugged her back, laughing a little awkwardly as he asked, “I don’t know if I messed up so bad you’re sad or if you’re just really happy.”

“Thank you,” she gasped. Her fingers clung tight to his jacket and she pressed herself to him all the harder - her bastion of comfort and touch, her safehaven in any storm. For once, she didn’t have the words at all, and could only manage, “I’m really happy, Steven. Thank you for everything.”

Her feet left the ground as he spun her, and for a moment she could have sworn his own feet left the dirt. He turned his head, catching her in a firm, closed mouth kiss and whispered, “Thank you for finally letting me help.”


	18. Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie visit the Maheswarans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art from from lovely [ Peachie! ](https://peachie5000.tumblr.com/image/619022462009638912)

Utada was a big, empty, flat state that Steven and Connie had spent far too much time in. They rented bikes and cars and sped out across the salt flats as fast as they could stand. They did it as Stevonnie, of course, as the giant enby was just small enough to fit on a motorcycle without special accommodations, and brilliant enough to spend hours doing tricks under the springtime sun.

Once they’d milked that dry of all the fun they could take, they scheduled a trip home. There was a warp pad in the western half of the state that sat on top of a mesa, which was only half-inconvenience, because like most mesas, it was only half-sloped. It was hard climbing of course, but one could walk up the bottom until one reached a sheer cliff. Then it got a bit trickier.

Connie raised an eyebrow. “I’ve free climbed taller.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, craning his head back to eye the tall wall of rock. “How about we bubble and float?”

“If you insist,” she said with a shrug and a laugh.

So they did, and as Connie appreciated the pink-hued view as they slowly climbed higher and higher, Steven typed on his phone with a grin. He curved against the top of the bubble while she laid against the bottom, and mostly she thought it was cute that he was having so much fun texting, though a small part of her said that if he dropped the phone on her face she was going to lose her mind.

“Who have you been talking to all day?” she asked with a laugh. “I’ve never seen you so stuck on your phone!”

He blushed a little, lowering the phone so if he dropped it she couldn’t get a hard brick of metal and glass to her nose. “Uh, it’s your dad. He’s asking about all my favorite foods and activities and stuff. I guess he took the day off since we’re going to their house.”

“That sounds like Dad,” she said. She closed her eyes with a happy sigh, because as nice as it was to be independent, Connie missed seeing her parents every day. Or most days, at least. “Guess he’s breaking out the old police sleuthing skills to plan the perfect family game night.”

“You mean security guard sleuthing skills,” he corrected.

Connie shook her head. “Nah, I meant before he was a security guard.”

“He was a cop?”

She laughed, sitting upright to get a better look at his face. “I didn’t tell you? Yeah! For around eight years, I think? He switched to security guard right before we moved to Beach City.”

“You haven’t told me a lot of stuff from before I met you,” Steven said. He looked around the bubble, focusing on happy thoughts for a moment to ensure their slow, steady progress up, then continued, “Uh, speaking of telling, how much have you told your parents? I don’t want to out you.”

“I tell them basically everything human. Gem missions were very diplomatic. I left out the injuries and violence.” She hesitated, looking away from his curious face and down at her knees instead. “Last night, in my session, I worked a couple things out. I want to give my parents a chance. I’m gonna tell them a lot of it today, Steven.”

He nodded. “If it’s okay to ask, what do you want to leave out?”

She let her eyes roam over the splotchy landscape as they nearly reached the top. “The stuff with Pearl. That’s the one thing I think they’ll go crazy over. I’m not ready to work all that stuff out with them yet. I haven’t worked it out with Pearl. Or Dr. Morris. Or me. So working it out with them is just…”

“Yeah,” he said. The bubble rolled onto the flat top of the mesa and released them, the two of them looking over the pretty green on the flattop and the sparse sand below. They had an appointment, but it was casual after all - just going home. They took a few minutes to admire the view and breathe in crisp, thin air.

Then Connie said, “It’s all thanks to therapy. Thanks for getting me there, Steven.”

He took her hand and kissed her cheek as they headed towards the pretty white-blue crystal. “Right back at ya, Connie.”

* * *

**Session 10, One Day Previous**

“Anyway, telling Steven about the dissociation stuff went really well. He was just kinda like, ‘Oh, that makes sense’ and he didn’t make it into a big deal or anything. We talked about ways he could help ground me. He was pretty excited about the music ones. We can sing together, or he can sing to me, and that made him really, really happy.”

Connie propped her face up on her chin as her pen moved across her tablet. Coloring was a nice grounding tool, and her digital coloring books were a nice way to move through rougher parts of the session without having to stop. She still wasn’t thrilled about her art, but coloring in someone else’s wasn’t high stress, and her mind stayed open while her hands stayed busy.

She continued, “I haven’t told anyone else, before you ask. I mean, I’m gonna, I’m just not there yet. Maybe that’s a thing. Shouldn’t we be talking about my parent issues or something? You know, since the dissociation stuff might have started even before all the magic?” 

“Would you like to talk about your parents?”

She shrugged without even glancing his way. She didn’t need to stare at his face all the time, didn’t need to analyze every reaction. He wanted what he always wanted - to help. She kept her muscles loose for big, broad strokes as she colored, trying to avoid any cramps.

“I don’t know. They left me alone all the time so they didn’t even notice all the stuff I did with Steven. There were all these rules, but they weren’t really _rules_ . It was stuff I was supposed to do. So as long as I did it, it didn’t matter. But it was frustrating, because it didn’t matter if I worked super hard and got an A+ or if I just kind of worked and got an A-, because the only thing they ever saw was the grade. I mean, they monitor my internet and my phone so on _there_ they see every single stupid thing, but all the hours of studying? Nope. None of that stuff.”

She tapped open a new layer as she lazily added shadows to her picture, just a few to give it a bit more depth and make it something she’d be happy to look at later on. “So I was kind of just like… Okay, so if all you care about is that the stuff gets done, I’m just gonna lie about how I do it, because if I do it the way you want I’m never gonna have time for anything fun. That was the point of the schedule, you know? Too busy for anything fun. And they never noticed any of the lies, so they weren’t there, so that’s kind of where it all started.”

He asked, “Do you mean that’s where the lying started?”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “My mom’s super busy and critical, and my dad thinks I’m cooler than him, and it just feels weird to talk to them about anything when lying is always easier. I guess I should. They want to be better so I should meet them halfway, but I guess I always hoped that they’d figure out I was lying about everything, so I didn’t have to be honest, so they’d take care of me. I just want to be taken care of, and not have to be in charge all the time and…”

She blinked, looking up from her screen. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she giggled nervously, “Oh, gees, I’m really talking a lot.”

“That’s a good thing!” He laughed. “I’m here to hear you out. Keep going if you want, or we could talk a little deeper about some of the things you brought up.”

She thought for a moment, then looked back to her coloring with a smile. “I’ll keep talking about myself a little more, if that’s alright.”

* * *

Steven loved going to the Maheswarans’ house. He knew things weren’t perfect, because no family was ever perfect, but whenever he was there it _felt_ perfect. And, yeah, he knew it was because when people had guests over they set all the time aside to make everything look perfect, but knowing it was a temporary kind of moment didn’t make it any worse. Lots of people didn’t bother to make things look perfect, even for a day.

When they got to the door, Dr. Maheswaran hugged Connie and Mr. Maheswaran hugged him, and it made his chest fill with comforting warmth. Connie’s parents swapped kids to hug, and soon there was amiable chat in the house as they talked about the road trip, what was new with them, some casual talk of interesting things from the news.

Doug reached beside the couch and held up Citchen Calamity with a wink at Steven. “I stopped by your house and picked this up. Apparently they don’t sell it anywhere. It’s too punishingly intricate for a children’s game.” He paused, looking down at the box with a little bit of worry. “It was pulled from the shelves for making kids cry.”

“Aw, it’s not that bad,” Connie giggled.

Steven faltered, like he always did at their home. Being a guest was something he was entirely unaccustomed to, and he stumbled to find the right way to do it. “We don’t have to play! I know you guys have your own games.”

“It’s a great chance to try something new.” Doug set it down on the coffee table and elbowed him playfully. “Come on, a kid with great taste like you? It’s got to be good.”

Priyanka raised an eyebrow. “ _After_ dinner. We’ve spent all day cooking. We don’t want it to get cold.”

Connie grinned as she looked up at her mother. His girlfriend grew so much steadier than him, little bits that he never noticed, but the height difference between her and her parents was shrinking with every passing day. She barely had to tilt her head to look up at them anymore. “I can’t believe you guys are cooking. You really did miss me, huh?”

“We missed both of you,” Priyanka said as they headed back into the kitchen/dining room combo. Steven tried not to let the happy surprise show on his face, but failed as the words kept coming, “Steven was coming around to the house so much before his road trip it was like having a second kid. The house feels emptier without the two of you.”

“ _Moooom_ ,” Connie whined with a giggle, the playful embarrassment that came from the open love and care from a parent.

Steven swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes as he followed behind him. At least the smile was real, happiness filling up his chest as everyone talked and dinner was served. It was vegetarian, which wasn’t weird. The Maheswarans tended to eat a very plant-based kind of diet, though it made him flush from teasing and joy when Doug elbowed him with a wink and said they dropped the spice.

Dinner went as wonderfully as it always did. Eating dinner with loved ones was always a treat for him. The gems didn’t really eat - except for Amethyst, who ate on no schedule and swallowed food too quickly most of the time to really have a family dinner with. But the Maheswarans were human, and all of them ate and talked, and it was nice to not feel like the odd one out for needing organic fuel to keep himself running.

The bigger surprise was the way he felt included. He kept waiting to fade into the background, for the other three to close him out and have their own conversation without him in mind. He wouldn’t have minded. Connie was their daughter, after all. But each time he had been quiet for a little too long Connie would encourage him to elaborate on a story she was telling. Doug would throw a joke his way to make him laugh. Priyanka would ask him another question about his thoughts on the future, places he still wanted to see.

And then Priyanka went to the fridge, and she pulled out a chocolate cheesecake. Doug leaned over to the boy, muttering, “You have _no_ idea how hard it is to find a cheesecake in this town that isn’t from a freezer aisle. Had to drive to the next town over just to find it.”

“You didn’t do that for me, right?” Steven tried to keep his voice steady, but it cracked anyway as he stared at the man he’d been texting all morning. The man he’d told Citchen Calamity was his favorite board games growing up. The man he told that he was still mostly vegetarian and shied away from spicy foods. The man he’d gushed about different deserts with for at least half an hour, before he settled on chocolate cheesecake as his newfound favorite.

Doug hesitated, looking a little worried. “Y-yeah, but don’t worry about it! I took the day off. If I stay in the house all day Priyanka goes crazy anyway. She needs a break from all the bad jokes.” He grinned up at his wife.

She rolled her eyes as the knife slid through the cake, then held a piece effortlessly balanced on the blade. “If I needed a break from your jokes I would have kicked you out years ago. Somehow, I still find them charming.”

But Doug didn’t return the flirt, his hand falling to Steven’s shoulder. “Are you alright, kiddo?”

Steven wanted to say yes, but his next breath came out shaky, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as the tears came fast. He knew that they weren’t like this every day. He knew that it was a treat. He knew he was their guest. But they had cared enough to ask what he liked. They had remembered. They had gone far, far out of their way to bring nice things to him, and he couldn’t stop the sob that came out.

Because he couldn’t remember the last time the gems had done that for him.

“Sorry,” he choked. “It’s very nice. I need a second.”

He pushed the chair from the table, and the table squeaked as his strength got just a little away from him and he slid it just a tad. Connie’s surprised cry of his name slipped away as he quickly crossed the living room, went out the door, and gasped in the fresh air of his hometown.

Memories crept on him like monsters, flicking across his eyes like a strobe light as he pushed them back. He remembered every awful meal sitting alone. He remembered handfuls of cheeseballs because he’d forgotten to remind his dad to pick up groceries ( _Why should he have had to remind him?_ ) and eating macaroni and nothing ( _Why would Amethyst eat his food for fun when he_ needed _it?_ ) and asking and asking and asking and _begging_ wouldn’t someone, anyone just sit down and have a meal? Even just pretend?

He remembered quiet mornings texting Connie and Lars and Sadie as he no longer bothered to ask.

Steven forced a deep breath in, forced himself to look around the street. Five things he saw - lamppost, sidewalk, grass, house, window. Four things he heard - grass in the wind, wheels on pavement, a rumbling motor and… a slammed car door. Three things he could touch - His shoes, the door, the doorbell. Two things he could smell - tomatoes from the sauce he’d eaten on his breath, the lingering scent of cut grass. One thing he could taste - tomatoes again.

Did every cuisine use tomatoes? Most did. He breathed deep as he straightened. He wondered why they were so popular. They were good, yeah, but why did everyone use them? Where did they even come from? Probably Italy. Italy used a lot of tomatoes, he mused.

The door opened behind him, and Priyanka stepped out. The door closed with a click behind her, and as she looked at him she had that doctor expression - soft and open. “Are you doing alright?” 

“Getting there,” he said with a little smile. He could feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up from the brief meltdown, but better embarrassment than anger or lashing out Still, he felt like he should explain.. “I’m not really used to family stuff. It was so nice I got a little overwhelmed. But, you know. Therapy. Thanks for telling me something was wrong so I could get there, by the way.”

“You’ve thanked me enough.” It was odd to have her look at him - there was sternness in her gaze, and intelligence and calculation. Somehow, it never felt malicious, as scary as it was at times. Her tone managed to fall somewhere between the strict mother he knew her as and the gentle doctor he had seen glimpses of. “I know I was intimidating when you were growing up. I did it on purpose. You were Connie’s first friend and I was protective. Maybe too protective.”

She considered that for a moment, then scoffed as she looked out on the street. “On second thought, maybe I wasn’t protective enough.”

“I used to think a lot about how stuff could have gone better, or what I could’ve done right. But it just kinda made me miserable,” Steven said. He had spent too many nights staring at the ceiling, wondering if there were ways things could have gone worse or better, unable to sleep as he tortured himself with things that could have been. “I think it’s better not to dwell on that stuff if you want to be happy.”

Priyanka smiled, bitterness crinkling at the corner of her eyes. “It’s a nice thought, but sometimes we need to be miserable for a while. Sometimes we need to think about our mistakes so we don’t make them again.”

“I hope not long,” Steven paused, his eyes flicking up to the tall woman. It still felt odd to question her, even in such a small way. “If it helps, you were scary at the beginning, but after a while I was just really jealous of Connie for having you as a mom.”

Her hand ran through her hair - a gesture familiar to him through Connie’s stress and pain. That was when she did when things got rough, the exact same motion, as if sweeping a hand across her scalp could brush back the feelings. Priyanka’s voice was flat, like Connie’s when she was upset. “I could’ve been better.”

He shrugged. “I dunno. You weren’t perfect, but lots of parents are kinda bad sometimes. Whenever I got to come over to your house, I felt really safe. I liked being in your home.”

She brought a hand down on his head. “We loved having you over.”

“Really?” He beamed. 

Her own expression softened and warmed, almost a little surprised. “Of course. You’ve always been a sweet boy, Steven.” She let one of his curls slip through her fingers with a thoughtful look. “If you wanted, you could call me Mom. Or Mother. Or Am'mā. From what I’ve heard there might be some baggage with just ‘Mom’.”

Steven’s heart stuttered in his chest., rubbing his hot cheeks as he looked away. “That’s okay. I… I don’t know when I’m gonna marry Connie. I don’t think it’s a good idea right now, until we both have more stuff figured out.”

“I’m not saying you’re my son-in-law.” She raised an eyebrow, her hand lifting from his head and pointing playfully at his nose. “I’d rather it was a long time before you become my son-in-law, or I became a grandmother.”

He laughed awkwardly. “Uh, n-no. I’m not planning on it.”

“Steven,” she said, in her very authoritative, doctory voice. “This is an offer, not an order. It’s not even a request. I want you to know that no matter what you want to call me, no matter what your relationship is with my daughter, you’ll always have a place in our home.”

The lump was back. Steven swallowed it, though tears came anyway and that was fine. He’d always been a crier. He brushed away tears with his fingertips, then with the heel of his hand as they kept coming, and his body ached with a mixture of emotions he couldn’t even begin to describe. “I don’t know if I’m ready to call you just Mom yet, but it’d be really cool to do it some day. I-I’d really love to be a part of your family.”

“You already are, and it’s a standing offer.” She laughed a little. “I’m sure Doug would love to have you call him Dad.”

Dad didn’t have the same baggage, though it felt a little weird when he already had a dad - and one he liked a lot. Steven thought about that for a second, running through ideas for names, until he was struck with the thought that there were a couple he already used. “When we’re Stevonnie, we think of you as Dr. Mom and Mr. Dad. Would that be too stupid?”

“Oh, I like anything that lets me keep my title.” She winked, her always-surprising playful side showing through. “I worked hard for this degree. Dr. Mom sounds just fine.”

* * *

Inside, Connie and Doug stood side by side as they washed the dishes. It was an old routine. He washed, she dried and put away. It was quiet except for the sound of running water and clinking dishes. It felt too awkward to speak, but Connie racked her mind for something to say before everything got strange.

But she could always count on her dad to fill a silence. “It can be nice, sometimes, to see that people you admire have weaknesses,” he said lightly as he moved a sponge over the plate. “Makes them feel a little more human. Like when your mom asks me to put together some furniture. She hates nails and screws.”

Connie smiled a little as she took it from his hands and dried. “I’ve always known he was human.” And, a month ago, she would have ended it there. A session ago she might have stopped talking. But she took a deep breath and slid the plate into the cabinet and added, “I just felt like he was more important and it was my job to protect him and take care of him.”

He looked up in surprise, then smiled a little. “Protect and serve, huh? Taking after Dad after all.”

“More or less. I’m not exactly a healer.” She giggled. 

“And I’m not exactly a cop,” Doug said, and he said it with a smile, but her own slipped off her face. His soon followed, fading as melancholy slipped into his words. “Well, not anymore. All those years of work and I didn’t even last long enough for a pension. Your mother made it through to the end, though. Good that we had her.”

She stood awkwardly, no dish being handed her way as her father rinsed silverware. She remembered her dad and mom both being busy, an empty house with a constant rotation of babysitters. She remembered seeing her exhausted parents collapse into bed at the end of the shift with barely a hello. Connie murmured, “I liked it when you left the force. You were happier.”

“I took the guns out of the house,” he said, and though the silverware was still in the sink, he flicked off the water. “All of them. Do you remember why?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Your partner got fired for killing someone by mistake, and you said you didn’t want something that was just for killing in the house anymore.”

“You feel big with something like that in your hands.” He turned around, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at her, eyes steady. “You feel so big that when you don’t have it you feel small. That’s what fighting does to you. It’s so big when it goes away it can feel like there’s nothing left.”

“It can do that. It was brave of you to get rid of the guns.” Her own arms were limp at her sides, her cheek between her incisors as the stinging pinch kept her stable. It was rare to have her father get serious, and the few moments it happened filled the air with a painfully heavy tension that Priyanka could never manage.

“I hated that sword from the second I saw it, but I’m not your mother. I knew rules couldn’t stop you. I knew sometimes you have to let them touch the stove.” He sniffed, his knuckle coming up to swipe at his nose. “You just have to pray it doesn’t hurt them too bad.”

She stared at him, words hovering on the tip of her tongue. _It hurt, and it won’t stop hurting. Not ever. Not really._

He dropped his guarded position, came forward to put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t know what happened, but I know you had something meant for killing. I know that when things get scary, your mind doesn’t always work the way you want it to.” He squeezed gently, his voice tight. “Connie, I know sometimes it’s harder not to pull the trigger. Whatever happened, I want you to know that we’re here for you.”

She shook her head as horror pooled in her gut. She hadn’t told them, she hadn’t said anything and _that_ was the conclusion they were reaching. _That_ was what they thought she had done. “No! The sword isn’t like that. It poofs, Dad. It... Daddy, I didn’t! It was a lot but I never… I could never… That’s not what it’s about!”

“Whatever it was, we’re here. We just don’t want to push you away again.” He tugged her closer, resting his chin on her head, but there was relief in his sigh, and she echoed it as he believed her without question.

Connie squeezed him. “How long have you known?”

“Since Steven talked to your mother in the hospital,” he murmured against her hair, rocking her slowly. “We figured you must have been there for some of it. But whenever we tried to ask, you’d go all dead and cold on us. We were worried pushing would keep you from ever opening up. You’re always been so determined to do everything on your own, and after all the talks we had years ago on your lying, about trying to ease up on the rules...”

She expected she would be afraid when the moment hit, but in their quiet kitchen, safe in her father’s arms she didn’t feel scared at all. The words came easy, and she was relieved to clarify, “I wasn’t going cold. I’m dissociating. My therapist says it’s a trauma response.”

“Huh,” he said, surprised. “We haven’t gotten a bill.”

“According to the government, I’m a veteran. Your taxes handle it,” she mumbled into his chest.

His voice rumbled through her, teasing and sweet, “Did you last long enough for a pension?”

She laughed, clinging to him tighter even as tears stung her eyes. When they talked, all four of them on the couch, it was easier than she could have imagined. There was bedside manner, patience, and tenderness from her mother. There were moments of levity, jokes that didn’t hurt, and unfiltered pride from her father. She managed to make it through the conversation with a pack of burning cinnamon mints and minimal tears.

Those didn’t come until she snuck downstairs and she and Steven sat together on the couch, and she whispered, “It was just like at the hospital. They really listened. If I had just talked to them after Spinel I… they would have sent us both to therapy. All that awful stuff that we’ve been going through wouldn’t have happened if we had just _told_ them.”

“Does it really matter that much?” he asked, looking out the window and wishing for snowfall, wishing he was smaller, and at the same time grateful it was so far in the past. And he was grateful because “If we went back in time, it all has to go the same. The Cluster, Connie. If it didn’t all go just right, we would’ve all died from it anyway.” 

Dr. Morris had said it was best not to dwell on things that might have been, that filling one’s self with _what ifs_ was a recipe for obsessiveness and anxiety and spirals. And things were getting better, so they both had practice of breaking those thoughts, of not wondering what might have been.

And things were getting better, and bad feelings were things they could handle. So, for one night, they curled up together and cried over things that never could be, mourning lives they never could have had, and dwelled on _if onlys_ instead of _what ifs._

The next morning they had pancakes, which were Steven’s favorites, and waffles, which were Connie’s. They had parents who loved them and a therapist on call. All things considered, with awful fatalism on their minds from the night before, things had worked themselves out fairly alright.

As Steven took the butter from Priyanka, he said, “Thanks, Dr. Mom!” and the delight on everyone’s faces more than made up for any tears shed the night before.


	19. Pearl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie and Steven confront Pearl, also some bonus trans feelings. Happy pride month!

“I’m starting to think I’m not a woman,” Connie said.

Tea warmed in their hands as they stared out at the sunrise. It was nice on Steven’s porch - well, Greg’s porch now. Without Steven around, the temple had become less and less a place for gems, and more and more a place for Greg to sleep, or for Lars to crash when he found a warp and craved a visit home.

There was still Steven’s favorite tea stocked in the cabinets - peppermint bags that would be restocked when necessary. Sleepytime for when he was stressed. There was even a box of grassy green for Connie, and instant coffee for Lars. There was a little sugar bowl, a little honey bowl, though milk went bad too often to keep around.

Steven sipped his honey-drowned tea and asked, “Should I call you something different?”

She shook her head. “No. Not yet, at least. Maybe someday. I think I might be working up to it. I think… I think it’s been hard, because when I think of women who aren’t women, I think of the gems, and I’m not…”

The waves crashed as they both thought about that for a bit, before Steven said, “Do you ever feel like every time you think about who you are, all you find is the people who raised you?”

“The gems didn’t raise me like they raised you,” she said.

“There’s a lot I didn’t tell you about them after you saved me,” Steven said, changing the topic abruptly. He set his empty mug on the floor and leaned up against the railing, watching the waves. “Getting better with the gems wasn’t easy. They don’t change fast, and it’s usually on humans to do the changing. So getting them to be better was… well, you saw them when I left that day. They didn’t really turn into perfect guardians overnight.”

Connie smiled a bit, just a touch of bitterness, as her eyes fell to the spot where Steven had driven away all those months ago. His going away party had been lovely, but the day he had departed had left him scrambling to say goodbye to the gems, rather than the affectionate sendoff she knew he had hoped for.

“Pearl went to see my therapist,” he said.

Her heart plummeted down into her stomach. “Steven, she _didn’t_!”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. She did. I actually thought I was going to hurt her. It was terrifying. All at once, I was so mad and hurt and… and I really thought I was going to hit her for a second. I wouldn’t. I never would. But I thought I would.”

“You might’ve been justified,” Connie muttered, her fingers curling tight around her mug as she glared at the ocean, waves gently lapping against the shore in the early morning wind. Anger was not a feeling she felt matched her. She didn’t like how it curled up in her chest, a contented thing, feeding the worst parts of her mind as she had terrible thoughts.

 _What if I had browsed your gem while I was inside it_ ? Anger whispered, digging kneading claws into her heart. _How many awful things did you do in the war, Pearl? How pathetic do you feel even now, without Rose at your side? How would you feel if your Diamond had ordered you to_ tell _instead of_ hide?

Steven’s hand brushed across her hair. “She apologized, Connie.”

She looked up at him, blinking her eyes wide. “What?”

He was smiling, on the brink of laughter again. “Yeah. I didn’t believe it either. She said that Dr. Morris gave her a very long talking to, and from the sounds of it I don’t think it was a really nice one. And she…”

Steven hesitated for a moment, then slowly held out his hand. “Do you want to see it for yourself?”

Connie stared for a moment, her voice coming out as a croak, “Is that what we want Stevonnie to be? Fusing for her?”

“Not for her, for us.” He tilted his hand invitingly. “For the conversation and experience. That’s not a bad reason, right?”

And it wasn’t. So she took his hand and leaned forward, her lips softly brushing against his. And because they both wanted it, and because they were so familiar to each other, Stevonnie was there without spilling a drop of Connie’s tea. They sipped it, and they enjoyed the grassiness, but remarked to themself, “Could use some sugar.”

They remembered as they went down to the kitchen to get some.

Here was where it happened. Right by the couch, where Steven’s compilation of _Earthocean_ had fallen to the floor with a heavy beat and bent one of the pages, marking it forever. Pearl had stood by the fireplace, awkward and clearing her throat.

_“I was told that some of my behaviors were hurtful,” she had said. “I’d like to remedy it.”_

And Steven had pushed, of course. They remembered his suspicion as they opened the cabinet and pulled honey from the shelf. They remembered his doubts as they tugged out a tablespoon and scooped a heaping dollop of sweetness onto it.

_Her hand had rested over her heart, her eyes lowered. “There were moments where I told you your own perceptions were faulty and wrong, and I shouldn’t have. I dismissed your feelings. I compared you to Rose countless times. There were times I removed all your privacy and others where we left you abandoned, which was awful for a child.”_

The tablespoon clattered into the cup, Stevonnie’s voice a furious shriek that cracked with rage, “It’s awful for everyone! How can you not _know_ that?”

They breathed deep, eyes closed as they leaned across the counter, forehead on their hand. Anger was not an emotion that suited Stevonnie. Connie’s ice and Steven’s fire swirled into a mess of obsession, plotting, and an almost painful ache for revenge. Their arms covered their head as they murmured, “We’re okay. We’re here. It’s alright.”

 _“Maybe this would be better in writing. My penmanship is still impeccable. I could write a letter. Perhaps a formal apology would do, but, later.” She teetered between laughter and tears, fingers curled over her lips as she looked away. “Oh, Steven. I can’t ever apologize enough for what we’ve done to you - what_ I’ve _done. But I am so very sorry.”_

“What?” Stevonnie croaked.

_Pearl had cupped his cheeks as tears filled her eyes, and he was too confused to do anything but let her. He had stared as she said, “I understand that the hurt we caused that I caused might be something you have to live with for the rest of your life, just like I have to live with things Pink did. That Rose did. I…”_

_She sniffled, unable to meet his eyes as guilt and pain took over her expression. “I don’t expect forgiveness, though I’d like it. I just need you to know I’m here now. I’m listening for whatever you need.”_

_“Anything?”_ Stevonnie asked. Steven asked. Both their throats were tight as the world flickered back and forth, twisting between them and him and her all in a nauseating blur. _“What if I need you to spend time with me every day? Will you come on the road and pay attention to me the whole time?”_

Stevonnie ached for it, tears in their eyes as breaths came in messy gasps. The tea grew cold next to them as they whimpered. “Just love us, please. I don’t want to leave you behind. Please, Pearl. We love you. Don’t go, I-”

_“If that’s what you need, I’d be happy to,” she had promised._

_“And what if I never want to see you again?” he had said,_ and Stevonnie screamed at it. How many people had ripped the two of them apart and remade them because it was for the best? How many ties around their hearts were they supposed to cut?

Because it couldn’t be everyone. It couldn’t be all of them.

 _There had been roughness in his voice, but he had to know. He hated the cruelty of it, the anger, but he said it._ _“After everything you did today - after what you did my whole life! What if I wanna leave and… and I never want to see you again. I don’t wanna even_ hear _from you.”_

_His lip was curling with anger even as emotion swirled, even as he loved her with everything he had. “What if I hate you for everything and… and I never want to be a part of this family again?”_

_Pearl had smiled sadly as the tears rolled down her face. There was a moment of composure as she stepped back. She didn’t touch him at all and said, “Then I’ll miss you, and I’ll hope you change your mind, but I’ll wish you the best and I’ll let you go.”_

_He choked on a laugh, on a sob. “I love you.”_

_And he’d flung his arms around her, small and frail without being frail and somehow always warm and motherly even at her worst. Her arms had slid back around him, letting his head fall to her chest as the sobs came hard and fast. “I’m sorry for ignoring you. But I’m listening now, Steven. I’m really here for whatever you need.”_

Stevonnie wiped tears from their eyes, reaching for the mug, and croaked, “That’s all. We can-” They straightened, shaking their head. “No, wait. I have something. It’s important. I have something.”

They took a breather, just a few minutes of deep breaths on the floor. Together, they meditated, eased themselves out of the old memory. They sunk into their body. They braced themself to depart it once again and lose themself in Connie’s memory.

_Connie had tried, really tried, to think of anything else but the phone call with Pearl all day. Her mind was stuck there, constantly dragged back to her mentor on the other side of the call, miles away. Kind, sweet, supportive… firm. Strict. Ruthless._

_“I know I’m supposed to be honest,” Connie said quietly, and there was almost a shame in speaking of it after staying quiet for so long, like she should have said it earlier, like it should have been the first words out of her mouth. “But I have been lying about something. It’s just omission and… and I didn’t really want to think about it at all. I wasn’t lying on purpose. I just couldn’t think about it, or say it.”_

_Dr. Morris didn’t scold, because he never scolded, and asked, “Do you want to talk about it now?”_

_She nodded, and said the words fast before her own nerves stopped her, “I keep saying I want to be a politician, that I want to work here on Earth, and that’s true. But I also know exactly what I want to do. I want to run negotiations between gems and humans. I want to help bring our worlds together.” She ran her hand through her hair, frustrated as she grit her teeth. “I just never really thought it was possible, that I could ever really do it.”_

Shaking hands put tea to their lips and drank - sugar sweetness clashing up against the bitter green beneath. Fusion was an odd thing to be. Memories were an odd thing to have, when they weren’t your own. Even the gentle ones, before they ramped up, were all-consuming, so the world faded in and out between past and present.

_“What made it feel that way?”_

_“Steven is what matters. I don’t matter,” she said, and saying the words in front of someone else made her heart scream in her chest. The mantra that she’d recited for months alone with Pearl in an empty arena, so high up in the clouds that no one could ever hear. Over and over and over again, until she was sure that if someone had cut her open, the words would be tattooed on her heart._

_“Steven is this amazing mediator, a great diplomat. I feel like I’ll never be as good at working out conflicts as him. I’m too quiet, and when I’m not quiet I’m too loud. I know that when it comes to humans, there’s no one more qualified than me to do what I want to do, but when I think about really working towards it, I feel small and useless, like I should leave everything to Steven and just go back to being his knight.”_

“I’m sorry,” Stevonnie whispered, then consoled themself, “Don’t be. It wasn’t you. You stopped it, you… you know who did it.”

_Dr. Morris paused on the page, and their eyes met across miles of space, because he knew now. He had pieced it together, pieces from her and from Steven, she supposed, that there was something unsaid when she spoke of being his knight. That there was someone who had taught her what it meant._

_Connie swallowed the lump in her throat and said, “Pearl broke me.”_

_“Broke you?” he had echoed, as he so often did when either of them said something important._

_“She did. She spent months breaking me down and I was a kid and… and she never even said she was sorry! I didn’t even know it was bad!” She pushed to her feet, pacing because she would not leave her body now. Her feet were on bare carpet. She was moving. She was here. And the memories had happened and they were real and she wouldn’t let them flicker, not this time._

_Her voice came out biting. “But now, when I look over everything, when I see who I am, I know that’s where it all started. I know it changed everything about me. It made me stronger. It made me weaker and…”_

_She let the tears come, wiping them away as she moved, and that was fine too. She could feel it, she could let it hit, because she wasn’t going to go away again today. The kit Steven made her sat in the corner and she tugged it open as she talked, pulling out the bag of cloth and running her fingers over linen, over silk, over everything he’d given her._

Stevonnie groaned, sinking to the floor and curling up against the cabinets. Steven choked on memories but his body was his own, stable and steady, and their shared stomach churned at his nausea from feeling the beginnings of disconnect. Muscles clenched and stretched as they both reminded themselves who they were, where they were, even as knowledge shot back and forth between them in an utterly out-of-body way.

_“I don’t know how to fix it! I don’t know how to feel like I matter, like I’m not a worthless human, or a soldier to protect Steven. I want to be Connie. I want to do the work I love to do, work that matters, but I’m still repeating the matras she taught me, and they’re not in her voice. They’re in mine.” She took a deep shuddering breath, a sob coming down as she looked back at the screen. “What if I can’t ever stop?”_

_“We’re going to work on this together, Connie,” Dr. Morris promised. “You can do all these things you want to do. You’re not alone. You’re not worthless. Your humanity doesn’t make you worse. You've already done so much. Look how well you coped today, how far you’ve come with opening up and grounding yourself.”_

_“Thank you,” she said, and laughed as she grabbed a tissue, abandoning the bag of fabrics to sit back on the bed, back in front of the screen. “I never told anyone that before. I guess I was always afraid they’d tell me it wasn’t that bad. It had to be done to save the world, I guess.”_

_Dr. Morris opened his mouth, and just for a moment Connie thought she saw a flicker of anger, of unprofessional emotions for just a moment, before it was tucked away, his only feelings pushed aside in order to tend to her. “I’m sorry that you were put into that position. The reason why it happened is irrelevant. What happened to you was intensely abusive, and the feelings you have around them are important, valid, and something you can recover from.”_

_“I don’t want to cut her out,” Connie said. “I want to keep a relationship with her, my parents, the rest of the gems. I really want to talk to all of them. I really want to bring all the parts of my life together, and a big part of that is because I want to do it for the rest of the world too. Do you think I can get there? Do you think that’s a good goal?”_

_“I do,” he said. “I think that’s a great goal.”_

_He was comforting and soft and sweet, and even through tears and a running nose, she managed a smile of her own._

Stevonnie tossed back the rest of the mug, then set it on the floor to run their hands through their hair. Relieved laughter fell from their lips as they let the past fade and came back to the moment, came back to bittersweetness on their tongue. Their fingers brushed at the tears that soaked their cheeks down to their chin, and they sighed as they stood, ready to head off to find themself something to clean off with.

And that was when the warp activated, and Pearl looked at them with a smile. A fading smile, because their eyes were red-rimmed and their face was shiny. She came to their side quickly, her hand familiar and gentle on their arm. “Stevonnie, what’s wrong?”

“Connie’s hurt,” they said, because that was the truth. Their heart pounded in their chest and they took deep breaths. Anxiety hit them hard. Steven and Connie were both anxious little things, both of them constantly fretting in their mind about every little thing. It was worse with a big thing. It was worse with feelings.

“What happened?” Pearl asked.

It was not a nice thing to say. It was not kind. It was not the role of a hero, of people defined by their self-sacrifice and generosity. But the answer thrummed through them so suddenly, so simultaneously, that the words came from Stevonnie’s lips, “You.”

But that was not who Stevonnie was meant to be, so in an instant they fell apart on the floor, grunting as they were thrown clear of a body that no longer existed. While Connie stared up in horror at Pearl, Steven only had eyes for Connie.

She looked down at them, her body perfectly still in a way only a gem’s could be, before she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I hoped I had gotten lucky with you. Not every human I trained was hurt, you know. There was a chance.”

Steven whispered, “Did you train them to die for Mom?”

“No.” Her voice cracked as she extended her hand to help Connie to her feet, and out of habit the girl reached for it without hesitation. And she held it, even as her heart twisted from Pearl’s confession, “Connie, you’re the only human I ever treated like a pearl. I think we need to talk about it.”

Connie swallowed around the lump in her throat, her head only slightly tilted up towards her teacher. It was odder and odder every day to find the people she once looked up to dwindling to her own height. She was surprised by the steadiness in her own voice as she agreed, “We really do.”

They sat together on the couch, except for Steven, who chose to give them some space at the kitchen table. Close enough for comfort, far enough to let her breathe. Pearl sat before her, deceptively dainty. Every line of her face, her body, looked more like a porcelain doll than a person - as if all it would take was a tap in the wrong place to send spiderweb cracks across her body.

“After the events on Homeworld, I found myself severely struggling with mental health,” Connie said, and kept her voice in the steady report of a soldier.

It was easier that way, for this part. She listed her symptoms, her conditions, as if they were problems someone else had - or wounds she had received in battle. Pearl asked questions, but for her part she was quiet. Respectful. The refined coolness from her mentor left Connie back to old habits, scanning Pearl’s face for the slightest signs of emotions, for the hope that she understood the severity.

But Pearl was so still one would think she was a statue.

And so Connie pushed deeper, muscles tensing all the way down her spine as she said, “But it didn’t start there. I know where it started. I trained with you, and the way you trained me was…. Was a horrible thing to do to a kid. To anyone.”

“It was,” Pearl agreed softly, and her eyes flicked away with shame.

Connie grit her teeth. “What you said before - that you hoped you were lucky. You thought about this before. You never said anything.”

“I thought saying something might make it worse, if you weren’t suffering. I thought maybe…” Pearl’s shoulders hunched with guilt. “I thought you might have been just like me. The first time I took my form I knew loyalty, devotion, and sacrifice. I was a disposable Pearl. What mattered was the gem who owned me. There could be no greater honor, no truer calling, than throwing my life away for the Diamond I was meant to serve.”

Connie’s fingers curled around the hem of her shorts. The line in her jaw went hard as she looked away. “I just wanted to help. I was _good_ at it. And you took that and you made it into something that made me worthless.”

“I know.”

“You told me I was nothing!” Her voice climbed as she looked fiercely at her teacher. “I was twelve and you told me I was nothing! You made me say it again and again and _again_! You could have lifted me up! You could have just made me stronger!”

“And instead I put you through the worst of it,” Pearl said. Her hand raised, reaching for Connie’s, only to hesitate. She pulled it back, settling it into her lap as she pulled in a shaky breath. Tears came, because Pearl had always been an easy crier, and she let them fall as she spoke, “I saw myself in you.”

A short angry laugh burst from her. “And that made me worthless?”

Pearl laughed back. “Yes! Exactly. You were small and fierce and you wanted to protect people bigger than you. Just like me, you didn’t stand a chance. How could you fight when all these things were so much bigger than you? And you don’t even poof.”

She shook her head. “I trained you to die, because that’s how I trained myself. How could death hurt when you’re inherently disposable? How could you be afraid to do what needed to be done?” She closed her eyes. “It’s an explanation. I don’t expect forgiveness from you any more than I expected it from Steven.”

Connie felt herself shaking, with rage or confusion and misery she couldn’t tell. Her voice was rough. “You know what the worst part is? If you’d just… if you’d just been mean I would have left. I wouldn’t have stood around and listened to you call me nothing. Even then I was better than that.”

She longed to grab Pearl, to shake her, but she stayed glued to her spot, as much the stony warrior as Pearl had trained her to be. But anger was ebbing with every moment, leaving coldness in its place, “But you didn’t do that. Excellent. Amazing. Genius. A prodigy. You said I have a _gift_ for fighting.”

“You do,” Pearl agreed. “I’ve never seen anyone take to it like you.”

 _Stop_ , she wanted to scream, and her jaw locked to keep the words in. She breathed deep, trying to steady herself, trying to keep her cool as the other part of her turned towards the praise like the sun. She would have melted like ice cream on a hot day had Pearl continued, would have fallen forward into the respect and awe in Pearl’s voice in just a few more sentences.

“I know you meant it,” Connie said, and swallowed again as the lump returned. “That’s what made it so hard. That’s what made it stick. I… I want to hate you, sometimes. But I can’t, Pearl. I see myself in you, too. I looked up to you. I…

“You know that, with my parents, it was really rough for a while.” Connie cleared her throat, felt her eyes start to burn. “Um, it was really strict and they were really busy and their expectations were, um, really high.” She cleared her throat again.

Pearl leaned forward, concern across her delicate features. “Do you need a cough drop? Some tea? I could grab a glass of water if you need something fast.”

“No, I just…” Connie put the back of her fingers to her lips, taking a shuddering breath. “You were the first person who was ever really proud of me. I just want to make you proud. And, after all this, I…” The tears finally came as she doubled over, putting her face in her hands. “I hope you’re still proud of me even though I couldn’t take it. I hope you still think I did a good job.”

“Connie,” Pearl whispered. “Oh, Connie, don’t.”

She whimpered through her fingers. “I should hate you and I don’t. I could _never_ , Pearl. I love you, and I want you to love me I… I don’t want to disappoint the first adult who ever believed in me. Who really thought I was something special.”

Pearl’s hand was on her back, rubbing slowly. “I could never be disappointed in you.”

“I was a decoration before you,” she gasped, wiping angrily at her eyes. “I was a piece in the background. I was never going to be anything. I had all these dreams and hopes inside me, and nowhere for them to go. Not until you gave me a sword. Not until you told me I could really, _really_ be something.

“And that’s why it hurt so much, Pearl,” she croaked. “You made me feel like I was everything and nothing at all once. I don’t know how to forget. I don’t know how to get better. I don’t know how to move on.”

Pearl slowly held her close, squeezing her tight. “I don’t know either, but I’m here to undo my mistakes however I can.” Connie felt tears in her hair as her mentor pressed her face there. “I should never have made you feel like you were nothing. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger for you,” Connie whispered.

“You were stronger than I could have imagined,” she whispered. “And for what it’s worth, I have _always_ been proud of you.”

Connie was a miserable crier. Her sobs were big and ugly, she could hardly speak, hardly breathe through the sobs. She hated the weakness of it, hated it even more than she hated the cold emptiness that sometimes overtook her when the world was too rough. But she sobbed on Pearl until there was nothing left.

“I’m sorry,” Pearl said, and her whole heart was in it with every repeat of it. “You matter, Connie. You matter to _me_.”

* * *

When all was done, Pearl let them be. She asked, of course, because she was cautious now. She asked questions now, like Amethyst and Garnet. _Do you want me to stay? Do you want me to go? What do you need?_ And both Connie and Steven soaked up the attention that had once been denied to them.

They talked more in the bed that had once been Steven’s. There was a weight off their shoulders, and Connie whispered conspiratorily, “I’m nonbinary,” just to test it out. In reward, a secret passed his lips that no one knew, his lips against her ear with an intimacy to rival being Stevonnie.

His first magic, too young to even remember. He didn’t know the age, just that it was small. He had understood what a girl was. Had understood what a boy was. And then… his body had adjusted accordingly. The gems, his father, had all adjusted accordingly - all the way down to the stories they told, so that the few brief years were rewritten with the appropriate pronouns in mind. And she responded to it with love, murmuring his name over and over against his lips, confirming that she would only ever think of him as _him_.

There was a part of gem stuff that was off behind them, and they relished in human problems that were slowly bubbling up. Oh, there were things to talk about now. Kissing and jobs and college and apartments and gender and sex, and they flirted with the concepts without diving deeper as they struggled to settle into the newness of it.

What _was_ life supposed to look like when one finished saving the world? Was that all, when the conversations were had and the strings tied up? Could they just leave it all behind, walk into the sunset as the credits rolled to piano softness?

She slept on the couch that night. Or tried to, anyway. The cover bunched up under her jaw, so everything was warm and comfy. Or it should have been, anyway. With nothing around, just dark and stillness, it took a while for her sleep-addled brain to fully connect the dots. She was not asleep. She was not cozy. She was dissociating again. Depersonalizing? Something.

What mattered was that her emotions had switched off, her body had disconnected. She rolled over, taking a small handful of mints (from her bag? Time was strobe-lighting and she was remembering things instead of experiencing) and they were in her mouth. The chilly sting tugged her down, whisked away the distance feeling, but a couple minutes passed and the bite no longer matters.

As glass slipped between her and her body, she rummaged through her bag. Fabric didn’t help. Her exercises were flat and uninteresting. Emotion was an impossible thing to grasp. She went to the freezer, and she had a handful of ice cubes, and for a second once again everything was normal. The chill reminded her that her body was hers, and then it dimmed once again.

She frowned. She stood in the dark, staring at her closed fists, and her hands grew as numb to the chill as she was numb to everything else, and water trickled down her wrists, her forearms, and down to the floor.

“Hey,” Steven said, “you’ll get frostbite or something. Come on.”

“They melt too fast,” she said, and she didn’t have it in her to be startled by him being there. She was by the sink now (how curious she had gotten there without knowing), and the ice cubes quietly clattered against the metal. Her voice sounded distant, distracted, as if she was focused on something else instead of the conversation.

But she _was_ focusing. She was trying at least. She was trying very, very hard to not be away. But the only words that came were, “It’s not working.”

“Sometimes that stuff doesn’t work.” He had a little dishtowel, wiping her hands of water, holding them in his own to warm them back up. “It’s okay. This stuff goes away. But sometimes you just have to wait, you know?”

Connie asked, “Can I stay with you?”

“You mean share the bed?” he asked, and in return she nodded, feeling like a puppeteer pulling strings with a body that barely cooperated. “Do you think that’ll help?”

“Yes,” she lied, then put her forehead to his chest. “No. it doesn’t. It stays no matter what. I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

He said something, but she didn’t remember, and he lifted her like she weighed nothing. She did weigh nothing to him. They went up the stairs. They went into bed. Vaguely, she remembered that they didn’t cuddle. Steven’s bed was big enough, she didn’t crave his touch, and he was exhausted. He slept. She slept. And, somehow, each of those things had happened at the same time and years apart to her jumbled up brain.

She was safe, at least. She hadn’t hurt herself with handful after handful of ice or hot water from the sink, which she had heard happened to people like her sometimes. Steven hadn’t minded at all, just like she had never minded taking care of him, and the guilt at being taken care of was fading more and more each time they traded off.

“Good morning,” he said with a yawn.

“Thank you for last night,” Connie said, because that was most important, but followed quickly with, “Don’t tell my parents about the bed thing, please. They’ll kill me.”

“They’ll kill _us_ ,” he retorted, and they both giggled as things were back to their version of normal - as close to typical as they could ever hope to be.


	20. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie talk about the questions still left unanswered.

Connie was getting used to being vulnerable with Steven again, and it seemed like he was feeling the same way. It was finally starting to feel like it had when they were children - a kind of openness and togetherness that came from the knowledge that they knew each other better than anyone. A security that came from the knowledge that they would support each other no matter what terrifying things might be around the bend.

Which was why she confessed, “Sometimes I get scared that all the feelings I have, the stuff I think is human, isn’t human anymore. Like, what if all the gender stuff I’ve been feeling doesn’t come from me? What if it’s a side effect from being Stevonnie or something?”

Granted, it was easier to confess these kinds of things in the Sky Arena, where they had spent so much time baring their souls among pink-tinged clouds. There was nothing to fight, but Connie had so long ago grown used to her exercise coming with a weight in her hand, and Steven’s shield carried the pattern of his soul, so they still sparred.

Sometimes, there was a moment when they remembered something they wished they hadn’t. They breathed it through. They still sparred.

“You know, it’s really normal to think of reasons why you don’t count.” He shrugged as he shielded from an overhead strike, a solid block that slid her weapon off to the side. “Dr. Morris talked to me about it, because he was comparing me feeling like I wasn’t human to people who are LGBT and stuff. Your brain comes up with all kinds of excuses about why you don’t count even though you do.”

“There’s other stuff too. I’m more worried about it than the gender thing,” Connie argued. A pivot, a step. She pulled her sword up from the low spot it ended in and aimed for a slice from hips to shoulder, and again her sword slid over hardlight. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

He raised his eyebrow as he grinned behind his shield. “That’s a problem?”

She laughed, and playfully bashed the guard without the slightest bit of strategy for sneaking under. “I mean, it’s not a _ problem _ , but everyone says that’s not how it works, right? It’s a dumb fairy tale to think that you fall in love with someone, and you only want them. It’s unrealistic and wrong and just… not how people work.”

Connie swept forward, stabbing forward with her sword as a feint while her leg came forward to try to hook his ankle. Steven hopped back, prepared for both, and settled back into his rooted stance as she continued, “I think people are cute, and I want to date them, maybe? But not really. I don’t want them the way I want you.”

Her grip shifted on her sword, and she took a few hops back of her own. A flustered feeling tightened her chest as she fixed her grip, but it was fine. She hadn’t really implied what she was implying. He couldn’t have known that she had meant, well… She fixed her grip and leveled her sword back at him.

Steven nodded as he slipped forward, circling her in a spiral that slowly shrunk the distance between them. “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean. I guess it might not be normal, but I don’t think it’s magic. I bet other people feel this way too.”

She shook her head, then took advantage of the distracting talk by making a jab at his side. Again, sword met shield as he read her like a book, and she sighed as she leaned heavily against his shield. “I don’t know! I talked to Patricia and Daniel and Lars and they talked about how hot people are? And it just didn’t make sense. I get that feeling, but only for you. I know I’m bi, I’ve gotten crushes on people. But…”

“It’s not the same with anyone else. It’s only you,” he agreed, and shook his arm a little to knock her off. With a giggle, she danced back and raised her sword. “But, I mean…. I’m sure it’s not just us. But even if it was, you know, a fusion thing. That’s alright. The why doesn’t matter. If we feel it, it’s who we are, and it’s real.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You talked to Dr. Morris about this stuff already, didn’t you?”

He laughed, vanishing his shield to cross his arms. “Listen, he says I’m in a  _ unique position _ . We talked about everything including sex and gender stuff. I’ve been going to therapy for over a year, you know. Believe it or not, I actually do run out of mom stuff to talk about.”

Connie’s sword clattered to the ground as she mock-gasped, her hands clapping over her cheeks in overdramatic horror. “What? Impossible. Who are you and what have you done with Steven Universe?”

“Uh huh,” he said, rolling his eyes. He rolled his head, raising his fists for hand to hand instead, and she happily mimicked the pose. “Speaking of mom stuff, what’s going on with yours? It feels like you’re getting calls every day.”

“Oh!” she laughed. “You’re not gonna believe me when I tell you.”

“Try me.”

Their hits were slow and easy to allow for conversation. It was all for play, anyway. Just for fun. Fists landed in palms with dull thwacks. Feet scuffled softly across the tiled floor. Arms barricaded and blocked obviously telegraphed hits as they both slowly worked up a sweat in the early morning light.

“Well, apparently, word finally started getting around that I’m Connie Maheswaran - ie, the human gems keep bringing up in diplomatic meetings.” She rolled her eyes. “Aside from Steven Universe, of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “But what’s that got to do with the calls?”

“They keep getting envelopes and college recruiters trying to find me,” Connie said. She smiled as she caught a blow to her head before it landed and easily redirected it into empty air. “Steven you won’t believe what they’re saying! Full rides, special privileges, fancy housing, honors societies. I can’t believe it! Everyone is dying to take me as long as my major is something political. They really think I’m gonna be some famous politician.”

“President Maheswaran,” he said, dancing back to give her an elaborate bow.

She snorted as she punished him for it, knocking him off his feet while he was bent over with a shove on his shoulders and a tug to his ankle. “You don’t  _ bow _ to the president, Steven, and I don’t want to be president anyway. I’m studying so I don’t have to spend my life stuck behind a desk.” 

Connie smirked,  _ very _ satisfied with the  _ oof  _ she had gotten from her boyfriend, and reached out her hand to boost him up to his feet as her words came out with barely restrained passion, “I want to  _ do _ stuff, you know? Make changes with my own hands, not order a bunch of people under me to do stuff.”

“Well, whatever you want to do it, it sounds like you’ve got a lot of options.” He smiled, though she thought there was something behind it. Some kind of sadness, maybe? It was a little hard to tell with both of them breathing so hard and starting to sweat. “And you deserve them, Connie. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and laughed, still not able to believe it herself. “I, um, still can’t decide between the schools, but I think I’m still leaning towards Harvale just because of their political leanings and prestige. But if I take Harvale’s deal I have to go slow, I don’t know if I want to do writing or art.”

He winked. “Do art so you can draw my OCs. Stefan needs a steady hand.”

“Oh, sure. Thanks for the help.” She laughed and gave his shoulder a friendly push, and this time he stayed standing with barely a wobble. He  _ was _ a solid boy, after all. It was hard work to budge him. “But what about you, Steven?”

“What about me?” he asked, and Connie noted the subconscious sweep of his thumb over his shirt - where his gem lay beneath. “I guess I’ve got to get a… GED? Is that what it’s called?”

“Yeah, but you don’t  _ have _ to get one,” Connie said. She took his worried hand and squeezed it softly, and gentled her voice so it wouldn’t sound forceful, or pushy, or hold some kind of expectation he’d be obligated to meet. “I’ve thought about it a lot, actually. You could get your GED if you wanted, but you could audit classes too. No degree, but you could learn. It’s not like you need to worry about wasting money or even making money in the future. You’ve got options.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. He looked out over the sunlit clouds, the colors of sunrise softening into simple white, pink and blue. “But you know me - I don’t want to do nothing forever.”

She elbowed him playfully. “Who’d expect hero-complex Steven Universe to lay around the house all day? I figured you’d take advantage of all that money and get into the arts.”

“I’m not  _ that _ into drawing,” he said with a snort.

“No, silly!  _ Music _ .” She brought her hands up to squish his cheeks and wrinkled her nose in delight at the cuteness of it. “You’re really good at it! You really love it and you don’t have to worry about failing because you’ve got money to fall back on. You can write your own music, have fun, your dad’s got connections in the industry.”

“I just don’t want to follow my dad’s path the way I followed mom’s,” he confessed (after removing her hands from his cheeks, of course, so he didn’t look completely silly for his serious moment). “I need to be myself.”

“I never thought of your music as your dad’s. And I never thought you’d be a rockstar.”

He teased, “Oh, so now I can’t be a rock star?”

“You can do  _ anything _ ,” she said cheerfully. “But rockstar doesn’t feel like you. Maybe just releasing some indie albums online, getting some subscribers. Or maybe you’d do shows in coffee shops, or be backups in bands so you could keep traveling, or just settle down and teach music somewhere.”

Steven blinked. “You really have been thinking about this, huh?”

“The music stuff isn’t even new. Music feels like you Steven, not just something you do for your dad.” She wished she wasn’t so sweaty at that moment, because she would have loved to fling her arms around him as she reassured, “I’ll be here no matter what you want to do. I just want you to be happy.”

“I thought…” He started then flushed. Steven’s eyes searched her face for a moment before he looked away, awkwardly clearing his throat. “I went to say something but I… I don’t want to scare you. I don’t want you to think I mean now, or next year. I just mean someday.”

Curse the sweat. If she couldn’t feel just how drenched she was from being out of practice and thoroughly overworked, she would have cuddled him until every insecurity melted away. She touched him as little as possible as she kissed his cheek. “I’m okay with someday stuff, Steven. Like I said before, I want  _ you _ . You’re not going to scare me off by telling me you want to be together forever.” She lowered her voice, muttering, “I  _ kind of _ already know you’ve got a lot of wedding plans.”

Steven ducked his head, pushing her playfully away from him as he giggled. “Okay! Cut it out! With all your big dreams, I kinda thought you’d go to work and I’d… you know, stay home with the kids.”

“Househusband fits you,” she agreed. “But you’re going to need to step up your cooking game, because if I have to bite into one more pastry that’s been filled with some kind of corn chip I’m going to lose my mind.”

He blinked. “Really? The kids thing doesn’t freak you out?”

“Do they have to be biological?”

“No.”

“Then no.” She shrugged, and since sparring was clearly done for the day she moaned as she stretched her arms behind her back, hitting the pectorals she was sure would be aching tomorrow. “I don’t know if I want to get pregnant, but I’d like kids someday. I don’t want to get married until I graduate, but I’d like that too.” 

Connie hesitated, remembering his torn up look on the beach, the sadness that had followed. Of course, he hadn’t been in the best place. It had never really been about the proposal. But, nevertheless, she said quietly, “It was never a  _ no _ . You know that, right? It’s always been you, Steven. It was just not  _ now _ .”

“I know. I just never want to push you again. Or, uh, get burned when you say you’re not ready yet. Both of these really suck.” He turned an awful shade of red at the memory, and she appreciated his lack of blame in it all, his acceptance of his own mistakes. “But, um, all that’s a long way off. So I’ve got to think about some job stuff before then. Music sounds… I could really like that.”

“You could.” Connie wrapped her arms around his shoulders, because he was too sweet and too needy not to touch a little more. Then, after a moment of consideration, she said, “I want to kiss you to let you know how much I like you, but I’m way too gross for you. I love you, Steven.”

“I love you too,” he murmured. “And I don’t care that you’re sweaty.”

Steven’s eyes were on her lips, and she was getting better at this kind of thing. They had been kissing more, so it was fine that his arms wrapped around her hips and brought her closer, pressing her body flush to his. His big body. The wall of him that swallowed her up so she felt safe and secure and  _ home _ .

His soft mouth covering hers vanished any worry about whether or not they were clean enough to touch, and they were already so practiced that a gentle tilt of his head had hers respond in kind, and had her lips parting for a deeper kiss. He was her weakness. 

“You’re so amazing,” Steven whispered, and she was done for.

It was impossible to ignore the soft husk in his voice as he praised her. His lips moved across her jawbone with soft pecks, and each one was followed by a compliment -  _ beautiful, strong, smart, courageous  _ \- until his teeth teased her ear and it was as sensitive as ever.

She sighed and practically purred as they backed to the stone steps. Connie didn’t mind the roughness, the hardness at her back at all as she tugged him closer, as her heart pounded from the movement of lips and teeth and tongue over her neck.

Her own hands pushed under his shirt. She savored the broadness of his back, the heat that radiated off him, and she could do this forever. Heat pooled in her stomach as his gentle touch at her hips, the calloused fingertip of his thumb scratching against skin, made her wish his hand would wander further.

She felt the soft skin of his belly, the familiar smooth, glassy surface of his gem, and he whimpered into her ear. A happy whimper. She played her finger over crisp facets, where the stone met the slightly cooler but so much more alive skin of his stomach. Her own mouth against his neck, and she thought about how wonderful it would be to take the skin and bite until she left a mark.

She thought about how low her hand already was on his body.

But she hadn’t thought that, not at  _ all _ . Or at the very least she wouldn’t allow it, not when they just talked about biological kids and not wanting them and wasn’t ready for any of that mess anyway, not with college still around the corner.

Connie swallowed as anxiety hit, a sudden wave of panic, and she twisted her fingers to wiggle into the ticklish skin of his waist, making him squeal and fumble off her with a very undignified, “Connie, that’s not funny!”

She laughed and swallowed down her nervousness. “Aw, It’s a little funny. Come on. We can’t spend all day kissing. You’re seeing Garnet, I’m hanging out with Daniel and Patricia for a few hours, and I don’t think anyone’s going to accept us getting carried away with making out as an excuse.”

Steven rolled his eyes as he got to his feet. “Uh, have you met Garnet?”

Connie laughed, because it was true, but as her hand took Steven’s, she thought about the year slowly coming to a close. Decisions were piling up, the future big and looming between them as the time to make choices drew nearer and nearer, and she found the road ahead, for the first time in a long time, extremely uncertain.

But her best friend was by her side, so it couldn’t be all that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hadithi, is that twenty-two chapters now? Hadithi what happened? Hadithi wha-  
> shhhh... shh. sh.  
> Twenty-two chapters. It's always been that way.


	21. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven gets some questions answered.

Steven usually had to make appointments to meet Garnet nowadays, because there were plenty of times where Garnet wasn’t Garnet. It was more than a little strange to check in to see when one of his guardians would be existing. It was often weird to call home and hear Ruby’s bubbly enthusiasm and Sapphire’s cool pleasantries. But Ruby and Sapphire had their own lives, their own hobbies, their own friends, and that was healthy for them.

Even if it was for the best, he still wished that Garnet would always be there when he needed her. He probably shouldn’t have been relying on her so much anyway. Not anymore, with all the human stuff going on in his life.

Steven met her on the beach and they sat side by side in the sand as they caught up. Little Homeschool was still running smoothly, with new classmates coming in slow but steady. Things were stable, comfortable, and - as gem lives so often were - slow. She, Pearl and Amethyst were settling into a new normal, while Steven spent his days pursuing novelty and doing everything he could to change.

He loved her, but the inches between them felt wider than the ocean that stretched out ahead. He looked up at her with a smile and tried to find common ground. “Stuff with Connie has been really great. I told you that it was kind of rocky at the start, but it’s been really good now.”

Garnet smiled, encouraging and loving as always. “I told you that you could get through anything together. You’re a good pair.”

“Thanks!” Steven said brightly. He put his elbows in the sand and leaned on them with a happy sigh. “Connie’s been going through some stuff. The kind of stuff I was going through, gees, practically a year ago now. But we’ve been working stuff out, going really slow, and it’s nice, you know? I feel like we’re learning about each other and ourselves and all that kind of stuff.”

“If you ever need advice, you know who to call,” Garnet said.

In response, Steven’s heart plummeted down uncomfortably into his stomach. Her cool confidence beside him was enough to take the wind out of his sails, and he longed for her approval. But that was the reason he had to swallow it down, look up at her and say, “Garnet, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” Garnet said, and, as usual, her tone left no room for argument. How could it? She had no questions, not ever. Not _his_ Garnet. She was the Answer, after all. Her glasses gleamed in the sun as her eyes turned down on him. “No one knows more about love than me.”

“I… you’re not wrong, I guess,” Steven said awkwardly. His heart banged against his ribs, and his breath came deep as he tried to keep himself steady. Because, somehow, he had to find it in him to explain. He had to tell her no. And there were no lives on the line, no one to protect - it was just him. His own boundaries. His own needs.

Even after over a year of therapy, it was hard to speak up with only his own comfort on the line.

He pushed ahead anyway. “Garnet, last time I asked for advice, I went to Ruby and Sapphire and that went… bad. And you said that’s what happens when you take advice from hopeless romantics, and you were right. It’s not a good idea to take advice from people who… you know, don’t look at relationships the same way you do.”

It was quiet for a moment. He wasn’t sure if she was checking the future, or if she was simply turning over the new information she had received. There was no way to tell with Garnet. Her face was as smooth as glass, her voice calm as she deduced: “You don’t want my advice.”

“You and Pearl were the closest I ever got to having a mom. You’re so cool and so confident, and I love _everything_ about you.” He could hear the adoration in his tone, the overwhelming respect, and he longed to end it there. But he looked at the space between them and leaned over to rest his head on her thighs, like he so often had when he was small. “When you tell me to do something it’s hard not to think you’re right. It’s hard to trust my own judgment when it feels like you’re never wrong.”

She set a tender hand on his head. “You trust me too much. You can’t take my advice.”

“Your romantic advice!” he said hurriedly because Garnet didn’t ask questions but he could hear the unspoken wondering in her voice. “Not _everything_. Garnet, I trust you. But you…”

Her fingers scratched softly at his scalp. “I’m a fusion.”

“Ruby and Sapphire knew right away they wanted to be fused forever. You still wanna be fused almost all the time,” he said, and as he continued his voice came out as an embarrassed, uncertain whisper. “I don’t know how I want to spend my life with Connie. I wanna marry her someday, but I’m not even sure if I know what that means. I need to figure that out with her.”

Heaviness settled into his belly as he said, “I need to figure it out with humans.”

“Of course,” she said quietly, and the things she didn’t say made his throat ache with tears he couldn’t cry.

“I don’t need to know how to be a stable fusion. I don’t need to know how to be together forever. I… I need to know how to deal with her hitting snooze three times in the morning.” He laughed as he wiped his eyes before the tears came. “I need to know how to get all physical without being weird and pushy. I need to know when to put my own life goals to the side and when to go after them, even if it means making romance harder. And… and you don’t have the answers I need, even if you think you do. You know?”

“I don’t,” Garnet said, adjusting her visor, and he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of wetness under it. “But if I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

He sat up and hugged her tight, whispering with all the love he had into her ear, “One day, Connie and I are gonna get married, and I'm gonna need your advice on making something last forever. But, right now, I need to stay away. I need to figure out what I want before I ask you how to get it.”

“Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Garnet held him back as waves washed over the shore, and he sat with her a long while just in the hug. He felt like a child for a while - small and uncertain and safe within the arms of his undefeatable tall guardian. He pretended, just for a little while, that everything was right in the world, and she was never wrong, and she always saw things coming.

And then he sat beside her again, facing the same direction, and said lightly, “How’s the future look if I go into music?”

* * *

He met Shep outside of the bakery Lars used to own, which was now owned by a couple gems who passed almost all the profit along to a couple of human employees. The enby had a box of goods, and was polishing off a turnover as he leaned against the bricks beside them.

“Hey, man!” Shep’s hand clapped warmly into his. “What’s going on with you? Came into town to meet up with your dad, right?”

“Nope. I found out you guys were in town from Sadie.” Steven saw Shep wince and laughed, holding up his hands. “No, don’t worry about it! We’re working stuff out, you know? It’s a process!”

“Still,” they tousled his hair. “You deserve some more TLC, dude. Hope your girlfriend’s been loving on ya.”

“We’re actually avoiding _girlfriend_ for a bit. I’m her boyfriend and she’s my partner.” He grinned sheepishly and rubbed at the back of his neck, and barely stifled a giggle at the very smug look crossing their face. He continued, “Uh, anyway, we’ve been doing a good job of loving each other. Where’s Sadie?”

“She’s hitting up the pizza place and we were gonna meet on the docks to eat. Got a little hectic and forgot to eat.” Shep dug through the box again, and Steven peered inside at the mouthwatering array of sweets. Thankfully, Shep pulled a small, powdered sugar cookie from the box and held it out to him. 

He took it with a thank you and a bright smile, then hesitated with it halfway to his lips. He had just said he needed human advice, and Shep _was_ human. And pretty good at advice. And also pretty knowledgeable about relationships. Steven cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, can I ask you for some advice?”

“Hit me,” they said, flipping the box shut.

“Okay, so we’ve been going through a lot of stuff and now we’re not really sure if stuff is magic or not.” He popped the tiny cookie into his mouth and chewed slowly as he thought about how to phrase it, how not to give away anything Connie might not be comfortable with him sharing, and ended up with, “Connie and me fuse a lot. I’m good at fusion, but you have to really know someone and really be on just the right wavelength or it falls apart.”

“Sounds pretty sweet,” Shep said with a grin. “So, like, it is that you try to have sex and you fuse?”

Steven choked on the half-eaten cookie, doubling over with his hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. Shep’s hand clapped down on his back as they muffled a laugh. “No!” he gasped. “We just don’t know if we’re only interested in each other because of the magic stuff!”

They snorted. “Oops. My bad.”

He groaned, covering his face as he slowly sunk down the wall, sitting on the warm, sunny pavement. “We barely even kiss! We’re just trying to figure out if humans fall in love like movies.”

Shep checked their phone, then pushed off the wall. Again their hand came out, this time to give Steven a boost up with a sweet smile. “C’mon. Let’s walk and talk. What do you mean like _movies_?”

He walked beside them, the taste of sugar overly sweet and almost unpleasant in his mouth. The flour and butter beneath left his mouth thick and uncomfortably sticky. “I don’t want anyone but Connie and she doesn’t want anyone but me.”

They brushed their knuckles against his cheek. “Ooh, you’re a deviant, huh? Into that illicit monogamy?”

He flushed. “No, I mean… well, yeah? I guess.” Steven looked down at his feet, flip flops quietly clicking against his heels, shuffling against the pavement as he dragged them. “I don’t think about other people like _that_. Only Connie. And she’s the same. But everyone says it doesn’t work like that and it’s a fairy tale so what if it’s… I don’t know. Magic stuff?”

Shep hummed. “So, you don’t really have a lot of friends your age right? And neither does she?”

“I mean, she has a couple. And on the road trip we’ve been making friends! We even joined some more Chaos servers, too.” He brightened the more he thought about it, remembering the very busy app tucked away in his pocket. “Oh, and Connie is getting me into a bunch of servers for books and shows and games that she likes. It’s been a good way of getting used to people without it being too scary.”

“That’s good to hear, dude!” They said, and elbowed him gently. “But I meant really good friends, not people you only see sometimes. That’s always been a pretty small pool, huh?”

Steven nodded as he thought about it. “Yeah, I guess. Most of my friends are gems and they’re a lot older. And you and Lars and Sadie. And the cool kids.” He paused, feeling like he was forgetting someone, and tried, “Peedee?”

They shrugged. “So maybe y’all are demi.”

“Demi?”

“Demisexual. It’s on the asexual spectrum. Like, you don’t feel sexual attraction until you’ve got an emotional connection going.” they explained. A smile spread across their face as they said more eagerly, “Cuz, like, I see a girl and I want to do stuff to her. You know, in my head. I’m not an animal or a cheater. It’s just that I see a hot girl and I think that I’d be down to fuck her, you know?”

“No!” Steven said, eyes wide. “Seriously?”

They laughed. “Yeah, seriously! It’s not like I lose my head or anything, just I know what I want. If you only experience sexual attraction to this one girl you’re best friends with, I wouldn’t call it magic. Maybe I’d call it demisexual. And, yeah, that’s not crazy common or anything, but it’s normal and you’re valid, little dude.”

“So, I’m demipansexual.” He paused. “Pandemi? Panromantic demisexual? How would you even say it?”

“Whatever you like. Follow your heart.” They shrugged and put a hand on his shoulder, the box of cookies carefully balanced in their other palm. “You’re more human than you think. You’ve got this.”

* * *

After a rewarding, pleasant day with Shep and Sadie, Steven polished off a fast food dinner, hopped into the warp, and met back up with Connie. He burst into their shared hotel room with the brightest smile and eagerly said, "Have you heard of demisexuality?”

Connie looked up from her notebook, one of her story writing ones. A purple pen twirled between her fingers as she looked his way. “Hello to you too. I had a great day. Patricia got accepted early at Jayhawk University. Daniel started dating this cool guy from another high school.”

He jumped onto the bed beside her with a laugh. “Connie, I’m super sorry, but I don’t care about Daniel and Patricia.”

“Terrible boyfriend,” she said dryly. “I can’t believe you don’t care about my life.”

He growled playfully, tackling her into the bed. Her pen went flying, but she had plenty more, and she was giggling anyway. His chest was warm and full as he grinned down at the prettiest person in the world and said, “I promise to get to know your friends better in the future. But do you know what demisexuality is?”

“Still a pretty rude way to greet someone.” Her eyes flicked to the ceiling as she stared off into the distance, a habit of hers as she puzzled things out. He watched her brows move, her lips move almost silently as she thought aloud. “Demi - that’s half or part. Half-sexual. So, maybe, you only sometimes want sex?”

“No.” He paused, running over the definition in his head and belatedly wishing he had asked Shep for more details. “I mean… kinda?”

“You want sex but only a little?” She hummed, fingers on her chin as she went back to working it out. The slightest shake of her head. “No. That doesn’t fit with your kinda. You only want sex sometimes, but maybe something more specific?”

Steven laughed, letting his forehead fall to hers in a gentle, loving bump. “Okay, stop guessing! It’s when you’re only sexually attracted to people you have a close connection to. Does that sound familiar?”

Her eyes widened. “That’s not a real thing.”

“It _is_ a real thing!” he said giddily. The expression on her face was all the confirmation he needed, the same feeling of something clicking into place he’d had moments before. “Shep told me about it. They said some people aren't attracted to random people. They don’t think of them as, you know, sexy. Or get sexually attracted or whatever. Unless they know someone really well.”

“I think I might need to look this up for better details,” she said, but she was grinning up at him even with his awful, stumbling explanation. “But this sounds… right. And it’s not some magic mindmeld, huh? Just normal human stuff.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. She really was beautiful. He always found himself thinking that whenever she was especially smart, or especially strong, or he was just especially in love. Steven swallowed as he looked down at her, at the way her hair flared out on the bedspread. “So uh we don’t need to freak out if we only want to kiss each other. It’s just you know, human stuff.”

Steven knew he could be a little oblivious when it came to his partner, her brilliant mind always quick to find new ways to hide her feelings, just like he so often did. Despite that, he had noticed how abruptly their kissing sessions had ended, and he had assumed that he had solved it. Connie was afraid their relationship was inhuman. Steven had evidence that it was not. Things must have been fine.

So he kissed her the way he wanted to kiss her. He was almost eighteen after all, with a year on the road starting just a little before his seventeenth birthday. There was nothing wrong with being in private and letting his weight fall on top of her, or focusing on how adorably small she was beneath him. How her body had more bends and curves than his did. How pretty their hands looked with fingers weaved together.

He focused on her, because Steven lived to please. His attention was fine-tuned to his partner’s every sound. The happy sigh as his lips brushed across her cheeks, her forehead, her jaw. The more heated gasp as he licked her neck, nipped the skin. His hand settled on her waist as he felt her wiggle under him. Her arms were lightly pinned against his chest, and it was nice to feel her nails dig against his shirt. 

He moved down slowly to the bit of muscle that went from shoulder to neck. Heat coiled in his belly, pressing and spreading up to his chest, and he only had the briefest moment of consideration that he could heal it if it bruised before he gave more than a nip, biting down as his stomach fluttered with excitement.

Her voice moaned his name, and he could have died happy from that. It overwhelmed him for a moment, fingers trembling against her skin as he shut his eyes tight and savored that there was someone who knew he was gem and human and loved both. She was his and he was hers, and after years of helping everyone, there was peace in privacy, in their quiet room, in the humanity that came from being together in whatever way felt right.

He had proposed and Connie had said not now, so he tried not to focus on forever, on the future, but on the moment he was in. On the way a single whispered word of praise was enough to make her whimper. On the way she whispered I love you and stared at him like there was no one else in the world. There were a lot of ways to be human, but surely this was one. To be with someone you hoped to spend the rest of your life with, and loving them however you were able.

Steven was cared for and loved and as the palm of his hand slid up her ribs. Connie’s throat bobbed and her fingers went to his belly. Her fingers bent, pulsing into his side, but instead of leaping away with a squeal, this time he sat back. He grabbed her hand, gently pulling it off, and frowned slightly. "Okay. We have to talk about boundaries."

She blinked. "But I always tickle you."

"No, I mean... You can't just do that to stop me from kissing you," he said, his cheeks a little flushed. Her expression matched, and he couldn’t help but be a little glad that she felt some shame for doing it instead of talking. "I don't want to push you, but, I mean... I've gotta know what you don't want to do so I don't do it."

She looked down, guilt clear on her face. "I don't know."

Steven shook his head in return. "You can’t say that this time. You have to tell me what you don't want me to do. I wanna go slow, but you have to talk to me."

"I don't know. I don't want to get pregnant." She bit her lip, crossing her arms over her chest. 

His mind reeled from the idea. Connie was fully clothed from head to toe, even if her shirt might have been a little rumpled. His own clothes were untouched. He hadn’t even taken off his jacket. Steven choked, feeling as embarrassed and awkward as Shep’s earlier joke had made him. "I don’t think you can get pregnant from what we’re doing," he managed.

"I know!" she squeaked, her hands came up to her cheeks, her knees pulled up to her chest. "But, I mean, you're kissing me and I get, you know. I get excited and I don't want to get carried away."

" _That's_ what carried away means?" he yelped. Too many things tumbled into place all at once, and he suddenly realized that his casual desire to go a little further had somehow been mistranslated as the kind of thing that Greg had given him lecture after lecture on carefully avoiding until he was ready. His own voice squeaked out, "I thought you just meant taking off our shirts!"

"Why would we taken off our shirts if we weren't going to have sex?" she retorted.

"Because it feels good and we're not ready to have sex!" he cried, eyes wide, as if he could ever go from their lazy kisses to being completely naked. As if he was ready in any way to be completely naked in front of her at all. He shook his head wildly. "We're not gonna jump straight to sex! I don't want to! Is that what you want?"

"No!" she cried. Her palms slid up to her temples, her eyes squeezing shut with frustration. "I... I don't know! I get all... I just don't want to get pregnant and-"

"Why would you get pregnant?" he insisted, because it kept coming back to that, again and again, and he couldn’t fathom why _that_ would be the thing to get stuck on. Like he would ever be so stupid to risk it when they were so young, and on the road, and she wasn’t ready to get _married_ so why would it be a good idea to have a kid?

"Because we get carried away!" she cried.

"Why would we do anything that could get you pregnant?" He was stuck in a circle now, some kind of loop that he couldn’t figure out how to break. Something was missing, and his mind fumbled around for what it could be, why everything circled back, and there had to be some kind of nice way to end it.

Her voice was curt, almost angry. Scared? He couldn’t puzzle it out because she made his temper flare as she said, "Steven, there's a bunch of myths about pregnancy and I don't know what you think we can do that's going to-"

"I'm not a stupid little kid, Connie!” he snapped. “I can't get you pregnant with my fingers!"

And everything fell dangerously, humiliatingly silent.

His stomach clenched, his brain racing, air growing thin in the room. _Why_ had he said that? _What_ was he thinking? He wasn’t ready for that, wasn’t ready for anything. He had thought, maybe, he might have been ready to touch her chest over her shirt the way she touched him, but even that was a cocktail of nerves and uncertainty. But anger had brought that out, and he was sure that would be the end. She was going to break up with him.

But when he finally brought his eyes back up from where they had fallen from shame and worry, he found her gawking at him. Her eyes were round as she choked out, "O-oh. I guess... You could do that."

"Yeah," he said, forcing the words out through embarrassment. "And other stuff."

"Other stuff?" she asked.

He stared for a moment. Steven didn’t consider himself the smartest guy in the world. He wasn’t great at asking questions or following up. He had a knack for people, but, sometimes, there were things that didn’t make sense because pieces were missing. Connie had been scared. They were going in loops. Everything seemed to come back to the idea that, for some reason, they would get carried away and then would end in the kind of sex that ended with a baby.

And, really, he couldn’t imagine that it was, well… a _knowledge_ thing. Because Connie knew things, and he didn’t. Connie read more books than him. She went to school. Her parents had gone to college. If there was one thing Steven could be sure of, it was that Connie knew more human stuff than him.

But there was only one answer that made sense.

Awkwardly, trying to ask without asking, Steven said, "So, uh, let's say two cis women are together. When they have sex, what do you think they do?" She stared at him like a deer in the headlights, and he couldn’t even start to put a name to the feelings inside him as he whispered, "You have no idea. _How_ do you have no idea?"

"I mean, Mom gave me sex ed." She hesitated. "But, uh, medical textbook sex ed. Anatomy charts. Explanation of pregnancy. But not so much, um... The act. Or alternatives. Or what people might do when it’s not just… the insertion of a penis into a vagina for the express purpose of procreation."

Steven’s hand came up to grasp his hair in shocked wonder. "You read _fanfiction._ "

"I only look at stuff rated T!” she said, looking appalled at the idea of anything else. “Steven, it’s illegal to look at stuff higher than that. I’m not eighteen. There’s no loopholes in the rules. It’s very clear."

His other hand was in his hair now. "You're _kidding_ me!"

She almost pouted as she looked at him, completely baffling him as she said, "I'm not! All I know is how to get pregnant, and that getting pregnant would ruin a lot of stuff, and getting an abortion isn't easy. And there's all kinds of myths about what gets you pregnant so it's better if you just avoid it."

"You're seriously just…” He let his hands fall from his hair and gently reached out to take her hands. “You’re stopping me from kissing you because you get turned on, and then freak out that we're going to knock you up?"

She snatched her hands back to cover her face. "Just kill me."

"I just don't get how this is happening," he said, a nervous laugh slipping from his throat.

"My parents are _conservative_ , Steven," she insisted from behind her hands. "My mom had me when she was a kid! All her and my dad cared about was making sure I didn’t make the same mistake! I didn't have resident sexpert Greg Universe teaching me techniques!"

That broke him. His shoulders shook as he doubled over, laughter pouring out from the idea of his dad somehow tossing him a manual, giving him long lectures and classes in the same way he had taught him guitar. It wasn’t nice to laugh when she was so worried, but he couldn’t help it as a mixture of relief and disbelief overtook him.

When he finally managed to speak he croaked out, “I’m sorry! I thought this was all magic stuff! I thought there was gonna be a bunch of stuff about me being half gem, and it’s the _human_ part. I can’t…” He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, breathing deep. “Oh, gees.”

“I know other kids look at that stuff and talk about that stuff,” Connie mumbled. “But my parents still track my phone and my laptop. I mean, I don’t think they look at it, but they _could_. And I wasn’t going to look up that stuff at the library, or get romance books. I just figured I’d ignore it until I was old enough, and I could look it up then.”

He nudged her softly. “I thought you liked being prepared.”

“I do!” She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "It's good to be prepared. I... Steven, I didn't think it was going to be like this."

He blinked. "Like what?" 

“I thought I liked people. I thought I knew what it was like to want someone but... It's like you turned on a switch. I didn't want _more_ with anyone before, not like this and it's here all at once, and I don't know what to do.”

Connie sighed and hugged her knees tight to her chest as she continued, “Maybe it runs in the family. I’m just not going to keep my head, and I’m going to go boy crazy, and then I’m gonna be stuck in the same way my mom was, moving around with a little kid who’s not gonna have any friends."

He rubbed her back. "What do you mean you can’t keep your head?"

"I go crazy when we kiss," she said, scowling at her hands. "I mean, when we make out, I guess. It wasn't a big deal when we did quick ones, but then we started to do more, and I really like it. I get like... Wound up. I want more. I want to touch you. It's like... It's like it _hurts_ not to."

"Yeah," he said. Steven’s brows wrinkled together as she looked up at him with wonder. "That's normal. I feel the same way. Why else would I want to make out all the time? And ask you how far we can go? I want more. Lots of people our age do."

"Oh." She laughed a little. "I guess I've been making a big deal out of nothing."

"It's not nothing," he said gently. "It's scary to me too. I just, I don’t know. Dad told me about all the options. There’s a lot of stuff you can do, and it’s whatever we like and whatever we’re ready for, and it’s not just, you know… the choice isn’t never touch or get pregnant.”

He left her for a moment, grabbing her pen where it fell and a little hotel notepad. Steven scribbled as she talked behind him. “I’m sorry I didn’t know about this stuff. I’m sorry I didn’t just talk about it. A-and it’s not even trauma! Or gem stuff! It’s human stuff, and I should’ve known it, and I didn’t. I’m sorry I let you down.”

Steven ripped the paper off the pad and held it out to her. “There’s a lot of human stuff to know. Sometimes I’m gonna know some stuff you don’t, I guess, even if most of the time you’re teaching me. It’s okay to have blind spots. I mean, you’re better with a sword than I am, right?”

“I gu…” she started, and she stopped as she stared at the paper she took from his hands. “Whaaaaat is this? Steven, what are you-?”

“That is a list of stuff that you can do that won’t get you pregnant.” He grabbed his backpack, slipping out his laptop and setting it on her bed in front of her. “My dad doesn’t track my laptop. It’s hotel wifi. Incognito mode is control shift N. I’m gonna go and, I don’t know, see a movie? But I’m gonna be gone for at least two hours.”

She slammed the paper down on the bed as she stared up at him. “And what do you think I’m gonna do?”

“Find some answers.” He shrugged. He still had his keys and wallet in his pocket, confirmed with a couple of taps as he headed for the door.

“You’re not gonna tell me?” she said. She was looking up at him with nervous, puppy dog eyes. Her lips were pursed slightly in a pleading pout, and he really would have liked to wipe it off her face himself, but...

He laughed, a flush crawling up his ears as he grabbed the handle. “No way. You can call your parents. Or my dad! But, uh, yeah. I just want to make out a bunch.” The door swung open and he confessed, hoping his grin came off as cheeky instead of terrified, “I’m not ready for sex.”

Steven stepped out into the sun, took a deep breath, and relished in yet another day of normal human problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week is the final chapter! <3 It's been one hell of a ride!


	22. Sealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie makes a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the songs mentioned in each chapter: [a Spotify playflist!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gom6cTeDHAicsXBjWT6uo?si=O9y1ZBLyR1mqiZ_BwdpzVA)

It was odd to be back in Dean Allen’s office, mostly because the room hadn’t changed at all. It was still that very pretentious kind of place, all big wooden doors and desks, papers all the wall, everything distinguished and lavish. It had seemed so intimidating before, so prestigious, and now it almost seemed like a comically gaudy symbol of elitism.

For some reason, she felt like it should have been different, some kind of elegant redesign. Maybe it should have striven to be less intimidating, more welcoming. But Connie supposed it had only been a year and Dean Allen hadn’t gone on a life-changing journey. There was no reason for the fancy office of Harvale to have changed in the slightest.

“Ms. Maheswaran,” the dean said warmly as she entered.

The hand offered to her was warm and sweet, but Connie felt that old prickle at the back of her mind. Why was that? Ah. The _miss_ . She wasn’t entirely sure she liked _miss_ , just like she wasn’t a big fan of the world _girlfriend_ anymore. She held off on speaking against it yet, just a bit unsure of her feelings.

She took the dean’s hand with a smile as the woman continued, “It’s a pleasure once again. How was your gap year?”

“Very worthwhile. Thank you for the opportunity.” She let her bag slide off her shoulders - a messenger bag this time, something professional but mature for the setting. She was always good at doing her research, always good at switching little quirks of her personality to slip into whatever world she found herself in, and she settled into the lavish chair she had found herself in nearly a year ago.

The size of it wasn’t so intimidating. She liked the plushness of it, how the bigness didn’t swallow her up but simply made her bigger in the room. Connie noted that the dean’s chair was even fancier, and thought the ornateness of the carvings in the arms was a little overdone as the older woman settled in.

“Well, I’m assuming your presence in my office means we’re doing some paperwork this morning.” She went to the inbox on the side of her desk and pulled out a familiar stack of papers. “You’re ready to take my offer and become a Harvale student?”

“I’d like to be,” Connie said, and matched the respectable, businessy tone with a smile. It felt so much easier now without fear prickling at the back of her mind, without thoughts of battle and survival resting there. “But there are a few things I’d like to talk about first. I’d like to amend the deal.”

The dean raised her eyebrow. “Any reason why?”

Inside her messenger bag was a small, half-inch binder. As Connie reached down to get it, her heart picked up pace in her chest. Thrilling. Exciting. A rollercoaster of adrenaline slowly creeping into her system in the most wonderful way. She set it on the desk and pushed it across. She met the dean’s eyes, kept her voice in that same, professional tone, and reminded herself of all the kinds of powers in the world.

Dean Allen flipped open the binder, her eyes slowly roaming over the first page. She turned it, and her eyes no longer wasted time on roaming. Instead she turned quickly through the makeshift book as Connie said, “Those are twenty-two acceptance letters to major universities across the globe, along with summaries of the packages they’re offering if I choose their schools over anyone else’s.”

The binder slapped back down to the desk with a casual toss. “Looks like you’ve come prepared.”

“I have, Dean Allen.” She grinned, and kept her voice low over the exhilarating roar in her ears. “See, I’d like to make you a deal.”

* * *

Connie had longed for talent.

They had gone to Empire City on their road trip, despite Steven having gone by himself and Connie living there for a while before she’d ever met him. There was a thrill in being alone in the biggest city in the world, and something especially seductive about all the stores, the food carts, the entertainment.

Sick of polos and jorts, Connie had decided to treat herself, and she wound up in a skirt down to her ankles with yellows and oranges the color of summer, a sweet robin’s egg blue tank top and a dashing yellow cardigan. And, for good measure, she even got herself a very stylish pair of sunglasses after Steven caught her eying them.

And that was all wonderful, but it had led to a problem:

“I’m out of cash,” Connie said miserably. Her wallet had a scant five dollars after her cash and debit card spending, and her regretful eleven dollar frappe sat heavy in her hand as she reconsidered some life choices. “Maybe Lion will let me hop home and grab something.”

“Hold on,” Steven returned with a grin. “I picked up a trick last time I was here.”

He had rushed to his guitar and snagged his guitar from the backseat, some kind of top hat she’d never seen before from the trunk, and then his hand was in hers, dragging her down to the subway. They passed busy people, performers, until they found a nicely empty spot.

Steven set the hat down on the floor, and though she had known it was coming, she still widened her eyes and grabbed his arm and whispered, “What are you _doing_?”

“Getting cash,” he said, and he winked.

Of course he winked. There was Steven’s stage persona. It was him, of course, but _more_ of him. More enthusiasm, more bubbliness, more charm, more _everything._ She stepped back and watched as her boyfriend rocked easily to the slow music he pulled from the instrument in his hands. She watched as she serenaded anyone who made direct eye contact.

“ _Just because it won’t come easily, does mean we shouldn’t try_ ,” he sang, and he could have given Bruno Mars a run for his money with his cover of _Easily_. The slight scratch to his normal voice eased to nearly nothing, turning honey-sweet as he purred to passing passengers who seemed surprisingly unbothered by the love song.

His flip flop covered feet skimmed across concrete with a gentle scratch as the first song ended, sweeping effortlessly into a more uptempo but still slow song. She knew this one too, one of his favorites that he loved to play as he worked through his skincare routine each morning.

This time the scratch of his voice came through, dropping the more nasal tones from the original singer for his own cheery vocals. “ _Your lovin’ is easy, please don’t change a single little thing for me_.”

Connie let her back press to the cool walls of the subway as she watched in awe. People smiled, people _laughed_ at the charming young man in the subway. Steven’s charisma had people dipping into their pockets, and the offered hat slowly filled with cash and change from busy Empire City patrons. Steven was charm and confidence, radiance and sunlight, even underground. He was bright without a spark of magic from his gem.

He packed up for the day, and they sat in Central Park as she organized the money and tucked it away into her purse. Envy slipped through as she spoke, as much as she wished it wouldn’t. “I wish I was talented at something like that. I wish I had anything that made me _me_ . You know, the way music makes you _you_.”

“Oh, come on.” He laughed and kissed her cheek. “You’re good at everything. I think you can pick at least one thing you’re really good at that makes you _you_.”

She shrugged, fingers stilling around the change in her hands. “It was my sword. It can’t be that anymore.”

“No.” Steven’s smile faded for a moment, then he forced it back on. “But, hey, maybe you can sing with me! Come on, we don’t even need to put the hat out. I’ll just go back and get my guitar and we-”

She shook her head, but smiled to let him know it was okay. “Not right now. Another day.”

* * *

So. Confidence. With confidence came charm and charisma, as long as you were friendly about it. Connie knew she was a likable person. Once she had stopped moving around so much, once Steven had become her first friend, it wasn’t hard for her to make a few more. She was interesting. She was friendly. She was witty.

Connie was clever, and she kept that thought in mind as she put on her most friendly face and explained, “First of all I’m still interested in the full ride. I plan on taking Political Science, but I’d like a semester to take a Digital Art and a Creative Writing class before I choose which one I want to minor in. I’d like to see what I’m better at in an academic setting so it’s not too stressful.”

That had been a hard thing to think about, and it was there that she was most worried the dean would refuse to budge. Still, with a year of learning on her own, the only thing that Connie knew was that her talent did not lie fully in writing or in art, as much as she may have wanted to work hard and improve on her own.

But the dean’s expression didn’t flicker, and she didn’t interrupt to insist, so Connie continued, “And I’ll compromise - I don’t need a free dorm, I’ll live off-campus. I’ve spent enough time on my own that I don’t need to worry about dorm life as a transition. I’m happy to pay for all extracurriculars, a meal plan, whatever else there is. All I want Harvale to give me is the free classes.”

The dean folded her hands, resting them on the desk. “And what do you want for that?”

The first part was easy enough, so she kept her tone light and casual. No need to put any weight on it. She let her hand casually open, fingers extended towards the dean. “I want you to accept Steven Universe as a music major here. He’s got the money to pay. You just need to give him a spot.”

She hummed, turning her head from side to side as she weighed all of that. It was a show, and Connie patiently waited for the dean to accept the lowball offer. Dean Allen sighed. “I think I can pull that off. Steven will bring some clout to the school just from being savior of Beach City. Was that all?”

No. This time there was a little knot of worry in her belly, because here was where it got tricky. It was heavier, and there was no getting around it, so she gave it the formal, proper weight it deserved - her tone as formal and professional as she could make it without being comical. “Dean Allen, Steven never went to school. He doesn’t have a GED and there are places he’s behind because of it.”

A flicker of concern across the dean’s face, which wasn’t good but expected, but Connie pushed forward before she could say a word. “He’ll probably need accommodations like a reader for tests, extra time. His therapist has hesitated to give him a formal diagnosis due to magical circumstances, but neither Steven nor Dr. Morris have any problems providing documentation of CPTSD or other variants in order to get Steven accommodations he would be entitled to.

“However, I am aware that Steven will likely need tutors and other forms of assistance in order to succeed, preferably those who work with the school and know the curriculum to get him to where he needs to be in gen eds. I’d like those to be provided as well.”

The dean laughed. Casual, brushing her off, but that was fine. Connie had expected push back, dismissal from the much bigger offer. The older woman scratched the side of her nose as she said, “Why don’t we compromise here? We give honorary degrees. I’m sure a talk with the board can get Mr. Universe a degree in any subject he likes.”

“Steven is rich and wants to go into music. He doesn’t care about the paper, he just wants to learn everything he can.” Connie shook her head and took a risk, putting a bit more aggression into her tone, almost scolding as she said, “All I’m asking is that your school acts like a school and not a business. Steven is a musical savant. He has perfect pitch. He can write songs on the fly. All your professors need to do is fill in the gaps.”

The dean leaned back in her chair, smile gone and expression amused but serious. She shrugged with a snort. “It’s a lovely apparel to the educator in me, but I’m sorry to say we _are_ a business. Ms. Maheswaran, Harvale deals in reputation and money. I don’t know if I can swing a student like Steven.”

“I thought so,” Connie said, and straightened her spine. No, she did not like _miss_ , just like she hadn’t liked hearing Constance said aloud a year ago. But in her bag were twenty-two schools that were eager to fight for her, and she trusted the nagging feeling in her heart. “And it’s _Mx._ Maheswaran now. Not miss. Thank you.”

* * *

Connie wished she could come alive like Steven did when he was on a stage.

Despite therapy, there were still days she could take a crowd and days she couldn’t. Mostly, therapy had done a good job of helping her sort out which one was which. In a small city in New AquaMexico, she and Steven had a busy day with new friends. There were indie music bands everywhere, and by sunset her head was pounding and she was exhausted and sour candies were starting to scorch her tongue as she tried to keep grounded.

But their new friends, Taylor and Devon, really wanted to go to karaoke. And Steven _really_ wanted to go. She assured him that she wasn’t up for singing (she rarely was, to be fair, and certainly not on a stage in front of strangers), but that she wasn’t doing so poorly as to need company. She insisted he head out to karaoke and she’d make her own pleasant evening.

She found a little bookstore that served strange teas. She bought a book that one of the workers recommended. She got a cup of tea that had a weird name and a weirder flavor. She settled in for an hour or two of quiet bookstore time.

It was interrupted about an hour in by a text on her phone. It was a video, with a thumbnail of Steven. He was a little too backlit to make out his face, but Connie would know that blinding pink jacket from half the pixels. She popped in her earbuds and braced for terrible sound quality and an assault on her eyes from karaoke lights.

She knew what to expect. The text had said: _Do you know your boy can scream?_

Connie did. She knew all too well how good Steven was at screaming.

Taylor hadn’t started recording quick enough, so the song was already halfway over. She doubted it was Steven’s first song of the night, not with them an hour gone and the karaoke bar looking so small and empty. There was a thudding beat as the song started to pick up and come harder. It wasn’t a familiar song.

But, then again, Steven tried not to listen to angry songs when they were driving. Even when he did, he tried to listen to angry songs that weren’t very personal. But now he was up on the mic, both hands clasped tight as he sang. He was shouting, voice angry and raw as it turned into a scream, “ _You keep on talking shut it up! You keep rubbing salt into the cut! Broke the cycle need to reconstruct. You’re no use to me, I’m giving up._ ”

Like always, his voice tugged her heart wherever the music asked it to go. Part of that was how in love with him she was, she knew. But there was no underselling Steven’s skill for music, the way his voice transformed and shifted through genres. Because just as easily, his voice dropped quiet and broken, following the whisper of the song out to the very end. A quiet, “ _God I hope I never miss ya._ ”

There was a second of silence as the song ended. Connie couldn’t blame the crowd. Karaoke was often full of one or two especially talented people, but they tended to belt upbeat songs or power ballads to show off their chords. Angry, screaming songs were not the karaoke mood, unless one was in it for the comedy.

But once the shock faded, cheers and applause from the small group of locals filtered in, and Taylor’s voice cackled with glee. “Holy shit, dude! Holy _shit_ !” and she would later find out that Steven and Taylor both loved the song - _Honestly (Encore)_ from Gabbie Hanna, and they’d both been giddy to find someone who loved what they did.

Again there was envy, because she was pretty sure she couldn’t have that for herself. Once she had held a sword in her hand and something to fight for, and she knew she was _alive_ then. She knew that from the other end of her blade she was a storm, crackling with energy and more alive than she ever was unarmed. She missed it more than she could say.

But there was nothing left to fight, and the people she had once fought beside were moving on.

Connie stared at her phone for a moment, and every scream she’d ever heard from him rolled around in her head. No. She didn’t want to fight that way anyway. Her thumbs tapped slowly over the screen. 

_He’s really talented._

* * *

This part was bound to be braggy, but that was key in any kind of negotiation. If one was not bringing things worth having, one was not worth conversing with. So here was the part where Connie had to sell, and she had to slip into that Steven place. Charm, charisma, openness, and an almost inarguable belief of having the moral high ground.

Although, she wasn’t Steven. She was Connie. Instead, there was an intellectual high ground because she was right. She pulled it from every gem she’d ever screamed at, small and angry and outmatched in power, but _right_ in her reasoning.

“Your reason for wanting me is because I’ve been working as a diplomat,” Connie began. “You think I want to continue working on conflicts that come up between humans and gems - like labor laws, housing, all the ways gems have started integrating into society.”

Dean Allen nodded. “That was the assumption and why we set the deal up to have you as a political science major.”

“I’ll be taking political science no matter what, but you’ve set the bar a little low.” Connie matched the dean as she leaned back, confident and lazy in her chair. She was _right_ . She _belonged_ here. She was educating someone else on what she knew to be true, and there was no reason to shout or push or whine. Her voice was cool and steady. “So far, all the talk has been centered around allowing gems into human society, but gems have so much more to offer.”

There was a small flute tucked into her blouse, hung from a cord around her neck, and like it was the most ordinary thing in the world she tugged it over her head and held it up between her fingertips. “This is a warp whistle. It was developed during the Gem War by a rebel Peridot. It allows humans to access warp pads and teleport without gem intervention.”

When she had trained with her sword, there were moments where she could see her enemy move before they did it. There were moments where she started a feint, and she could see her rival take the wrong step, make the wrong move, and the rest of the match fell into place as clearly as if she had Sapphire’s future vision.

Dean Allen leaned forward, eyes wide as her hand extended, and Connie saw the rest of the conversation play before it happened. “May I?”

She held it out and watched as the dean examined it - barely contained curiosity, greed, excitement. Connie let some of her own giddiness creep in, because it _was_ exciting and she didn’t want to undercut that. “It’s not fragile. Like most gem tech, it’s hardlight. It takes some practice to use, but if you can hold it and blow, you can teleport on a pad.”

“I haven’t heard about this,” the dean murmured. She forgot herself for a moment, lifting the flute to her lips, then lowered it as she remembered. Her eyes flicked to Connie as she grinned. “All the news from the diplomats working with gems is that their tech only responds to gems. There’s no human accommodations.”

“The diplomats are talking to the Diamonds. They don’t care about humans and they don’t make things to help them get along,” she explained. Connie put her hands together, pointing with her index fingers at the pretty white thing in Dean Allen’s hands. “That was made by the Crystal Gems, the faction I grew up with. The faction I’m a part of.”

Dean Allen’s grin turned into a chuckle, a slow shake of her head. “I get it. You want integration to go both ways.”

Connie let more thrill come through, leaning forward now that she had the older woman’s attention. “Yes, ma’am. Like me and Steven, I don’t think we need to pick a side or pick a lifestyle. Tools like the warp whistle and Steven’s very existence proves it doesn’t have to be that way. Humans and gems can exist together in every way possible.”

She felt her chest puff out with exhilaration, the same rush when her sword wrapped around Pearl’s and sent it flying, the same rush from pulling off a feint so flawlessly that her sword tapped along Steven’s side and had her win the match. Everything was exciting, everything was right as the words spilled forward.

“Dean Allen, I want to negotiate humanity into the stars. We have things gems can use - creativity, innovation, a better understanding of how to work with organic life and alternative energy sources. All I’m asking that you weren’t willing to give is teaching their one-time prince anything he wants to know.”

It was a fight, of course it was a fight, but there was no need to watch her back. There was no need to fear a stab, an attacker from behind. There was cleverness and wit and action, and despite every part of her thrumming, she kept her cool as she smiled. 

“If I were you, I’d take this deal before someone else does.”

* * *

Down by a lake in Tuber, they enjoyed still water and quiet time together. Everything was drawing to a close, and they tried to take a breath and enjoy the relaxing days they had left on their long, lazy gap year. The suns shone on glittering water and every so often a slight breeze made yellow grass whisper like a happy sigh.

Connie was fighting on her phone. Her thumbs fiddled on the controls as she worked her way through menus and combos as the overly complex RPG took up all of her mind - and battery, unfortunately. It was rare for her to be happy if her brain wasn’t busy.

Steven’s fingers strummed over the plastic strings of his new ukelele. He cleared his throat, scooting up next to her with a playfully put on kind of awkwardness, “ _I couldn’t help but notice that you’re sitting alone. And it’s been twenty minutes since you looked up from your phone.”_

Her cheeks heated and she rolled away from him with giggles, thoroughly shamed for her screen time in the great outdoors. It was worse that she had introduced him to the song to begin with, one of her favorites that she said reminded her of the two of them. That was one of the few times she felt right, like she was in her place.

And he kept her there. When she looked up at him, his face was all lovesick charm. He serenaded her with plastic strings, and she could do nothing but stare up at him, more in love with him with every passing moment as he wore his heart on his sleeve.

“Easy for you to fit the mood with a pre-written song,” she retorted. “But you-”

“ _Isn’t it such a beautiful day? Woah. We’ve been driving countless miles in the car.”_ He grinned, all smug giddiness as he rewrote lyrics on the fly. Music came to him like that, with rhyming lines somehow easier than speaking. “ _Isn’t it nice just to be somewhere different, woah. And it’s nice to just be wherever you are._ ”

She looked at him, awed and doing her best to cover it with giggles. “You’re too good at-”

“ _Look at my face and just embrace, you’re stuck with me through all the thick and thin.”_ He winked, all sweetness and love. And cockiness, because she could not hide just how impressed she was. “ _And though I think I‘m kind of sick of all the trouble, woah. To be here with you I’d do it all over again._ ”

She smiled. “You’re beautiful when you sing.”

“Yeah, well. You’re always beautiful.” He blushed.

Connie let her fingers strum over the plastic strings with a small frown. “Thank you, but… not like that. I mean the stuff I said before. You’re beautiful. Alive. _You_ . I feel like all I’m doing is trying to find that feeling again, you know? I had it. I’m the kind of person who _has_ that kind of passion. It can’t just be gone, right?”

“You’ll find it,” he promised, and he kissed her forehead. “Just keep an open mind.”

* * *

Silence fell in the room as the Dean considered her deal.

There was tension in the moment that a sword hit a target. Things had to settle, even after the thing was already done. So Connie waited, patient and secure, as the warp whistle twirled slowly in Dean Allen’s fingers. It was over, of course, and they both knew it, but there were formalities in this kind of thing.

You bowed to your opponent.

“You said Steven doesn’t care about the diploma?” she said, and when Connie confirmed, she hummed a bit more in thought. “Let’s compromise then. Steven will not be admitted as a student. He can pay for and audit any class he likes and I will guarantee there’s always a spot open.”

“And the tutoring?” Connie pressed.

“I’ll personally see to it that Steven has access to any resource he needs to excel, through the college or outside it.” She shrugged, whistle between her fingers as she held it out to Connie. “It’s not like I don’t have the money to provide for him myself even if the board turns me down. I can call in a few favors to make sure he has the best of the best waiting for him.”

“Thank you,” she said, almost a sigh of relief, despite the knowledge that it was coming.

“Did you get professional help?” Again Connie confirmed, and the dean chuckled a little. “It shows. You’re different. So forget the six-year condition. You can work it out with your advisor and therapist how quickly you finish.”

Well. That was an unexpected bonus. It startled a little laugh from her. “Really?”

She laughed as she pointed to the warp whistle that was back at home beneath Connie’s blouse. “With that thing on the table? Mx. Maheswaran, I would like to go vacation on Mars as soon as possible. Your professional can tell you how fast you move, because I’m in no condition to slow you down.”

“Then we have a deal?” Connie asked, though it was hardly a question at all.

“Consider it sealed,” she said, and offered her hand once again.

* * *

In the southern part of West Keystone, the Kindergarten took green grass, rolling plains, and lush forest, and turned it into a graveyard. Well, half a graveyard, half a nursery. Connie had never been there much, only heard about it, and there was a surrealness to the very concept of it. Death and life in a very unequal measure. A breaking of the circle of life.

Steven’s hand was sweat-soaked and clammy in her own as they walked through the place that was supposed to be just the beginning. She knew there was a shame he had for this place, just like Amethyst, though neither of them were to blame. But that was the way of things, to feel responsibility for the sins you benefited from, to feel disgust for the spot that started sucking out life for someone who had no right to it in the slightest.

He sang to himself as they walked, so absently she wasn’t sure he even realized he was doing it. Steven was trying to cheer himself up, trying to beat back the wariness as they moved. He went through all his favorite cheerful songs, looping back to the most reassuring over and over as he made a medley on the fly. Connie fought back a smile as he murmured, “ _Melt down the guns, we’ll build ships to the stars. We’ll rise above conflicts and wars. We believe in love and love saves the day.”_

Sweetly upbeat, almost painfully optimistic in the awful place. But sometimes you needed to feel bad for a while. Sometimes you had to remember things, think about things that brought you down to an awful low place. It didn’t do to dwell on misery, but it wasn’t any good to look away from it either.

They sat on a cliff and overlooked the pit beneath. Deep slashes into the earth, a mine that took so much more than they could have dreamed. It was quiet. Most of the day had been a kind of memorial for the life that did not exist and maybe never would, a monument to greed that looked at other life as an acceptable loss as long as it continued the conquest.

Connie thought about how Peridot had tried to grow flowers here once. Connie wondered how much Peridot knew about proper flower growth, how much research had been done, and what the gem knew about taking dead soil and bringing it back to life. That was something worth thinking about.

Steven was singing still, but there was no laughter in it now. “ _I was a blind fool, I never complained.”_ His voice tugged and moved her emotions like they were made of clay, effortlessly summoning an ache to her chest and eyes. She knew this song too, another one of his favorites, though she wasn’t a fan of why. “ _I was the one with the world at my feet. Got us a battle, leave it up to me._ ”

“Steven,” she said softly, taking his hand. He sang his feelings, drowned himself in song when things got too big to speak. Steven was the incarnation of a musical. His brain was all music notes and melodies, and a quiet voice was not enough to interrupt that.

“ _What it is and where it stops, nobody knows. You gave me a life I never chose._ ” His fingers clamped over his gem, which had started to glow beneath his shirt. His voice was too tense, losing the course of the song in between heavy breaths that were coming too quick. Pink crept into his cheeks as his voice stopped coming in song altogether, crashing into words. “I wanna leave but the world won’t let me go. Wanna leave but-”

“Steven,” she said, putting more force behind it. Her fingers squeezed his hand as she forced her way through, discordant instead of harmony. “Where are you? Come back.”

“No, I’m here,” he gasped. His fingers curled around a rock, and it crumbled under the titanic pressure of his hand. The hand on hers didn’t even twitch. “It’s an anxiety attack. Sometimes I can sing through it. I just started thinking about the future and all the stuff that happened and all the stuff that still needs fixing.”

“Breathe,” she said, and rested her forehead on his. A deep breath in, a pause, a slow breath out. This close, he felt it. He heard it. That was what was important for Steven - hearing it, having the sound fill him so the rest of the world could vanish. Grounded, he breathed with her.

Connie spoke quietly, “You do not owe the world all of yourself. You give what you can. You take care of yourself. And there is no one on this planet who deserves a life of peace and moderate selfishness more than Steven Universe.”

“Moderate. Okay. Good to hear there’s still some conditions.” He laughed quietly, wiping tears from his eyes with a dusty hand. It didn’t do much good, because the dust kept his eyes watering, and she laughed back as he pulled away to sneeze and rub with his shirt. “How do you stay calm when there’s so much work to do?”

She smiled, her eyes finding his watery ones with a spark. “I mean, Isn’t it exciting? We live in a world with a chance to change more than we ever could have dreamed. Who knows what stuff we’ll find along the way? Who knows how much better the world is going to be?”

Connie’s chest filled with excitement and wonder as she took his hand again. “Maybe there’s ways to fix the Kindergartens. Maybe humans can help gems live on planets without destroying them, even make new gems! Maybe there’s ways humans can help gems and gems can help humans we haven’t even thought of yet.”

“Steven, there’s so much work to do, and I can’t wait to see what the world looks like when we do it.” She laughed, kind of breathless, kind of teary-eyed from the thought of it. Connie pressed, quiet but warm, “There’s so much hope. I know things can get better, Steven. I know I’m gonna play a part in it.”

“You’re _you_ ,” he murmured.

She blinked, leaning back a little. “What?”

“You’re _alive_. You’re… I don’t know. You’re Connie. All Connie-ness.” His hands rested on her cheeks, pure adoration. He was crying again, because he was such a crier, and he whispered, “That’s who you are. It’s not just fighting with a sword, Connie. It’s… I don’t know, everything. You’re a fighter. I’m so, so, so in love with you right now.”

She smiled, leaning forward to whisper against his lips. “Yeah, well, I’m always in love with you.”

* * *

The really funny thing was that Connie wasn’t sure what state they were in. She’d gotten distracted and turned around, and now they were out in the night with a nearly waned away moon and endless stars and they could be anywhere. She could have checked her phone, but the need wasn’t pressing. There were other things at hand.

“Okay, Steven.” 

They had parked the Dondai, and he had spent the past who knew how long on the roof, strumming away at his ukulele and making up songs as she finished up her work inside. He held out a hand, she took it, and then they were side by side on top of his care, staring up in the crisp, beautiful night.

“Well, _Mr._ University,” she said, grinning at his giggle. “I have received and returned _all_ finalized paperwork from all necessary parties, so you and me are now certified students of Harvale University.”

His brows wrinkled. “But I thought-”

“Alright! Nitpicky!” She started her own giggles. “One certified student and one special case who’s basically a student without papers. That sounds so much worse than just calling us both students, you jerk.”

“I’ve lived my whole life paper-free. Why start now?” he said. He strummed the ukulele like a guitar for a moment, and the comical sound filled her belly with laughter yet again. It really was a magical night. Steven asked, “So, what’s next?”

“Well, here’s where it gets weird.” Connie’s eyes flicked to his in the starlight. Everything so still in the most wonderful way, alone in the most peaceful way, and her voice was barely above the whisper to compliment the silence. “The year is basically over. We have plans to end our road trip. Dr. Morris has said we’re both ready for college and we’re both seeing him every two weeks so... I guess we just have stable lives for a while.”

Steven hummed, rubbing his chin as he added, “The gempire is dismantled and I wrapped up all the bad blood with the gems I fought. I made sure all my mom’s loose threads were wrapped up, so that’s over. Both of us are fixing up our relationships with the gems and our parents. I mean, they’re not perfect, but it’s all just steady progress. And I think the romance side of things is going pretty sweet.”

He looked at her and she agreed with a playful poke to his side before laying down on her back, completely side by side as they stared up ahead. “Yeah, it’s going pretty great. Especially since Mom and Dad agreed to take all the spyware off my phone.” She held out her fist and his knuckles gently rapped against hers. “So, Steven, what problems do we have left?”

“You’re going to kill me, but…” She could hear the sheepish grin in his voice even without looking his way. “I think everything’s fine.”

The phrase had her rolling her eyes, but as best she could think of it, she couldn’t prove it wrong. She thought of stones left unturned, of problems that weren’t at least in the process of being solved, and came up empty. She settled for a witty, “I’ll concede, but everything’s fine is pretty relative.”

“Especially with relatives like mine,” he said, punctuating his joke with a silly twang on the instrument in his hands. She couldn’t help but laugh as she snatched the conversation from her this time, and she found herself unable to come up with anything clever to that.

“Then I guess there’s nothing to do but get on with the rest of our lives.” She stretched out on the car, metal cool and smooth against her skin. “Play us out, Steven.”

His fingers danced on plastic strings as he went through a medley of songs of his own. Somehow, despite favoring guitar nowadays, he never lost skill with the ukulele. His hands were sure, and his voice was steady, and it was impossible not to feel comfortable and safe with his lovely voice beside her.

Safe, serene, and serenaded, Connie dreamed about the future. And, for once, survival faded from her mind. No enemies were coming down from the inky space above. There was only adventure out there, places unexplored. There was hope and dreams and so, so much work to do.

For once, she didn’t need to survive. All she thought about was living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this story a little unsure of where I wanted to go. I just wanted to make something that tied up the loose ends I felt Future left behind for us. I always wanted to give Connie a character arc. I desperately needed the comfort of Steven being happy. I wanted to write how things could progress so the gems could be forgiven, so relationships could be worked out, and everyone could move on with their lives.
> 
> So I wrote the story hoping that other people could enjoy it if they felt these things were missing for them, or even just enjoy it because fandom is fun and isn't canon. This story is concentrated fandom - or at least, my favorite parts of fandom. But I hope that seeing a journey of mental health helps people understand that there's a way out. Therapy isn't a magic black box, or a pill, but a work in progress and you can learn to cope. From the comments, it sounds like that's been true for a few people, and for that I couldn't be happier.
> 
> I'm really going to miss this story. It was something I lost myself in completely during quarantine and I'm going to miss that. I'll still be working on other stories for a while longer, so check out my profile. And I've thought about adding omakes to this in the future if I had ideas, but I'm not really sure if that would add or take away from what's here, so maybe not.
> 
> To end it, let me just say thank you to all the wonderful people who commented and left kudos, here and on Discord and on Tumblr. Thank you to my dearest friends in fandom who talked to me for untold hours analyzing the ending of the show - Kerry, Adam, Beanie, Jill, Pon, Steeb, Cyn, NewLense, Lucky, and Dragon. A lot of this is from the stuff you said, and it's been so amazing talking to all of you.
> 
> Special thanks to my husband, EchoFour, who works with me on everything I do. I don't deserve such a wonderful guy. To Lense, who helped me get the therapy down and gave me the confidence to write and post it. And to FollowerofMercy, the beta who spent SO MUCH TIME going through the story with me. Seriously, you guys are amazing. Thanks again.
> 
> I think that's probably enough sappiness for a silly fanfic. It's been really fun, everyone. Thanks for making fandom such a wonderful place to be!
> 
> And fuck you, Chungus. <3


	23. Omake - Job Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not long after graduating college, Connie gets a job offer.

The strangest thing about working in politics had been who she ended up working for. Job offers came banging down her door from every corner of the world - gems were coming, more and more every day, and though they were hardly an invading force, no one was sure what to do about them. How did you handle these strange beings who seemed to want to work for fun? Who didn’t understand money? Who had all these odd, sometimes destructive powers? 

Each new case was more interesting than the last, but in the end, Blue Zircon had come with the best deal. She had come in the middle of the day, while Steven was out at his classes and Connie was laboring over a mound of job offers. She and Steven shared the place, so it was easy enough for gems to find them. The lawyer turned politician arrived with a smile, a notebook, and a promise that Connie would never want for anything as long as she worked for the Intergalactic Republic of Gemkind.

“The name is still under construction, of course,” Blue Zircon said with a sniff as she settled down at the kitchen table with Connie. “But that’s something for us gems to sort out. What I’m here to offer is a job translating for gemkind. We’d like you to help gems and humans get along.”

“I’m flattered, but before we go on…” Connie paused, feeling her face contort with a wince. It was a blow to her pride, but one she couldn’t risk not asking: “I need to know if you’re offering this to me because of Steven. Did he ask you to do this? Did you think this was going to buy favor with him? I won’t say no because of it, it’s just-”

Zircon held up her hand and fluttered it as if whisking all of Connie’s worries away. “An understandable fear, but nevertheless fallacious. The current political climate may grant Steven hero status, but the employment of his fusion partner is a negligible bump in my popularity. And, to be perfectly frank, even if I lose the next election, I can’t see you being replaced for a long time.”

Connie frowned, but there was a sensibility and logic to gems that made politics with them a little odd. Even her Harvale training never fully prepared her for it. Gems tended to feel very strongly that certain people were made for certain roles so that even their elections seemed far less based on popularity and far more based on who was the most logical person on paper for the job.

She shook her head as she looked across the table. “That’s what I’m worried about. I’ve only done some small diplomatic work, help on election campaigns for internships. I can’t see what you’re all so keen on unless it’s because I’m Steven’s… fusion partner.”

“It’s less about skill and more about experience,” Blue Zircon explained. “We’ve been trying to work with humans for the past few years and it’s been exhausting.”

She propped her head up on her chin. “Uh huh. The money stuff, right?”

“Not only that! We don’t understand their lives, they don’t understand ours. They are obsessed with resource management and taxes. It’s ridiculous!” The gem scoffed and rolled her eyes at the idea.

She was carrying a bundle of simple folders, printed on paper, so apparently they had learned a little about how humans did things. Zircon shoved them across the table, and Connie was quiet as she read through the summaries at the top of each case. They certainly had been having trouble, and she mumbled to herself as she read. “You’re struggling to explain the fundamental difference between gems and humans. They don’t get that all you need is sunlight. Everything else is a luxury.”

The Zircon frowned. “What else do humans need? Good? Money?”

“Oh, loads. Food, water, shelter. Land to produce those things. Raw materials for the production of tools to more efficiently produce those things.” Connie’s left hand rolled in the air as she spoke, her right still flipping through the Gempire’s first attempts at mixing societies. “We may be similar in personhood, but our struggles are fundamentally different. You might as well be speaking different languages to each other. And that’s not even getting into stuff like reproduction or mortality or the ethics of physical har-”

“This is why we need you, Mx. Maheswaran,” Zircon interrupted. “A lot of gems want to live on Earth. They want to establish more outposts like Little Homeworld across the globe, but we can’t understand what the humans want from us, and they can’t understand what we want from them.”

Connie set the folder down, meeting the gem’s confused and insistent eyes. “Okay, practicalities first. When you first announced your offer, you said I’d never want for anything. What does that mean to you?”

She hesitated, as Connie suspected she would, and the girl braced herself for the possibility of a very long negotiation ahead. Zircon seemed amenable enough, at least, her voice free of confrontation as she confessed, “Your earlier speech has me worried we may not understand human needs accurately. Please understand we’re open to negotiation should the terms be… unfavorable.”

She raised her eyebrow with a grin. “I’m guessing payment won’t be in US dollars then?”

Zircon stared for a moment, then weakly asked. “That’s the Earth’s currency, correct?”

“Oh, Earth has a lot of currencies.” She laughed and put her chin on her fist as she leaned across the table. “I’ll take that as a no, but it’s alright. What were you going to offer?”

She quickly sorted through the folders Connie had laid out on the table, looking barely panicked at all as she did it - which, from what Connie remembered from Steven’s stories, was quite the character growth on her part. “We have records from Steven Quartz Universe that an abandoned lunar outpost made a significant impact on the two of you. No gems are stationed there.” She pushed the right set of documents across the table with a nervous smile. “We are aware that humans find gold and uranium valuable. The moon contains reasonable amounts of both and we would be happy to loan automated mining equipment. Regardless of your choice in mining, the outpost would be yours to do with as you please, and we could install warps that would deny permission to everyone without a key.”

Her brows wrinkled together as the gem spoke, confused at which of the many moons she’d been to over the years would be one Steven would think of as impactive. Connie flipped open the folder and her heart came to a stop, her mouth going dry. The jungle moon. She recognized the place even pictured from space, and turning the pages to reveal more pictures on the surface (including their run down makeshift shelter) only confirmed it.

She looked up, sure her mouth was hanging open. “I…I don’t understand. This is… you’re giving me a moon?”

“And the resources,” Blue Zircon confirmed with a nod. “The final page has a quick list - it’s all in Earth tonnes.”

She choked, fingers gripping the pages so tight they crinkled. “I’m sorry, tonnes? Tonnes of gold?”

“And uranium!” She was much more eager now, much more bubbly as she pushed Connie’s fingers away and turned the pages herself. “Other elements and compounds are listed here, but as you’ve pointed out we are woefully unaware of the needs of humanity.”

Connie gawked at the chart, her hand coming up to her temple as her voice started to crack. “Liquid helium. Tritium. Plutonium. Trace amounts for the size of the place but… even grams are all I need for a decent salary. Pounds could have me set for life.”

“Oh, wonderful! So this is a good offer?” Zircon beamed. 

The words rushed by her as her mind raced and swirled with possibilities. There was so much to consider, so many implications. She’d have to talk to scientists, economists, just to be on the safe side. Out loud, she kept babbling: “I’d have to be careful. Small sales so I don’t crash the economy with luxury goods. But even less valuable resources could be sold in large volumes. Useful resources, not precious ones. That’ll mitigate the damage. It could even improve society.”

“Connie?” she pressed.

“Automated work removes ethics questions. We wouldn’t want to live there permanently, but we could make something like a summer home. Bismuth would love a project like that.” She laughed, sounding hysterical even to her own ears as the possibilities kept unfolding. “It doesn’t need to be much. Steven’s stable. Just a small salary for myself.”

“Is this agreeable?”

There was a little bit of frustration now, and she winced from it as she looked back up. Right. Job offer. Business deal. Even if it was an unimaginably good business deal, she needed to keep a bit more professional. She nodded eagerly. “Yes! Absolutely. I can work with this. Are you sure this isn’t too much?”

Zircon shrugged and sighed. “The planet would make an excellent kindergarten, but gem production has stopped until we find more renewable ways. That could be centuries away.”

“Gems don’t want to live there?” Connie asked, and a touch of guilt crept in as she realized that colonizing a planet would be the last thing she wanted. “I don’t want to take away anyone’s home after we spent so long fighting for our own.”

“The life there is hostile and unintelligent.” She snorted. “It’s a hassle to live there without damaging the natives, and what would we get out of it? They’re stupid. They don’t create meep morps or buildings or have meaningful conversations. But we’ve heard humans are fascinated by unintelligent life and find some kind of value in it, so we decided it was worth the offer to you.”

Connie laughed. “What was your backup plan? A planet?”

Without a hint of irony, she nodded. Her gem shone, as a small gem drive appeared in her hand - something that would plug in just fine to the laptop Peridot had modified for her. “Unfortunately, the librarian told us we needed more currency to print more pages, so the backup plan is all stored in our typical forms. We had a few planets to choose from, though you’d have to share the space with gem settlements. We assumed negotiating with that would be much harder, but a planet is much more appealing than a moon, even an especially large moon like the one we’re offering you.”

Connie squeaked with shock, waving her hands wildly. “No! That’s too much. No planet! No negotiations with other gem settlements! The moon with all the mean animals is more than fine, thank you.”

And on they’d talked, negotiating more specifics - hours and vacation days and sick days and all the details of the job itself. That was a bit trickier - again Connie had to explain human concepts like bathroom breaks and sleep and even just general rest, but the Zircon seemed happy enough to find the accommodations for her. At the end, they shook hands, signed a contract, and Connie stared at the folder in her hands as her newly-employed status slowly sunk in.

The door opened, keys rattling, and in Steven stepped with a smile. “Hey, honey. How was your day?”

She slowly turned her gaze to him, letting the folder fall to the table. There were so many wonderful ways to break the news. So many jokes. So many heartfelt ways she could say it. He would be happy for her no matter what, she was sure, and it was so momentous she felt like she should say something big.

“Hey Steven,” she said slowly, but the only clever thing her mind could think of was: “How do you feel about getting into real estate?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if these come to me I'll do more of them! The story is complete and always will be, and anything I add on will just be cute, fluffy moments from the future!


End file.
